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simpjaes · 2 months

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serial-sweetheart (s.jy & p.sh)

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

MDNI!!

WORDCOUNT― 23.6k

PAIRING― shy jake x afab reader | sunghoon x afab reader

CONTENT― sunghoon and reader are 24, jake is 21. boyfriend sunghoon, perverted/shy college boy jake, panty stealing, hidden intimacy, needy jake, dom-ish sunghoon in smaller/less detailed smut scenes, reader is definitely a switch depending on who she is looking at, uh, brief mention of heeseung raging at jake through a headset while he gets pleasured lmao

WARNINGS― infidelity that doesn’t get exposed, foot job but only bc i can’t figure out how to write a scene like this if it’s not your foot lmao, there are intimate things happening between reader and jake in like, almost every fuckin scene.

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because i wrote it for a different band on my other blog(@/ncteez). this is a revamp of that fic, freshly edited and updated.

smut tags under cut::

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know what Wednesday is.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jake is just confused, clearly.

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

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

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

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

Especially someone like you.

Jake feels shy at the very idea of you, not just because he’s heard what you sound like when his brother touches you, but also because you’re just, like, really pretty and it makes his thoughts go in every direction when you speak to him.

Even now, just over a small breakfast, he’s disappointed that you have a job too. He’s sad that he can’t spend time in this house with you alone even though he knows well enough that he probably wouldn’t have it in him to approach you.

Or does he? Knowing that from time to time, like when he first moved in, there had been some days where you stayed over and did your work-from-home stuff. He wasn’t well acquainted with you back then enough to come out and sit with you, and he’s likely not acquainted enough now either, but that doesn’t change the fact that he kind of wants to be around you without his brother taking note of the small crush he kind of maybe developed by being around you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today is expected to be more exciting than your last anniversary. Mostly because it’s marking a second year with Sunghoon and solidifying the fact that the two of you have made it this far without any glaring issues that could threaten the relationship. At least, no issues that Sunghoon is aware of.

You think that these thoughts and images of Jake swimming in your head are a phase. In fact, you hope they are. There’s no way you’d ever actually go through with anything involving your boyfriend’s little brother. He’s just kind of cute to see all flustered, even cuter when he tries to hide how he’s feeling regarding you.

Jake isn’t there when you walk through your boyfriend’s door. Unfortunately, neither is Sunghoon.

Grabbing your phone and checking the time you’re distracted by the glaring text message from your boyfriend that seemed to have been sent some ten minutes ago as you got in your car for the drive over. A little wave of disappointment hits you as you stand alone in the darkened kitchen.

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

Sunghoon: is that okay?

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

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

Sunghoon is great at texting you back too.

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

You: for 3 hours?

Sunghoon: yes???? or you can just go bug Jake lol

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

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

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

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

Something inside of you twists at his message. On one hand, you’re happy that you might get the entire house with your beloved boyfriend tonight, on the other hand, you kind of don’t like the thought of Jake losing the ability to get all flustered around you if he’s got someone else doing it for him.

Are you jealous? No, but you’re a little selfish. You always liked when men chased you even if you knew it would lead nowhere, even if they knew it would lead to nowhere. It was harmless fun, but now all of your fun is gonna be ruined. The last thing you want to be hearing is Jake railing some girl in his room while you’re trying to sleep.

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

Sunghoon: plans?

You: better get done with work soon so can come home and see <3

With that, you set your phone down and reach for the remote.

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

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

Silly thoughts like these are normal and you’re sure Sunghoon has them too. Despite the fact that you’d be weirded out if it were about your little sister if you had one. You’re not hurting anyone passing the time and thinking about how things would go with Jake. Surely not. It’s just a fantasy and nothing more.

It will never be anything more.

Besides, Sunghoon was never shy toward you. Always shooting his shot in charming and convincing ways that have managed to lead to a two-year relationship that’s still going strong. He didn’t leave as much to the imagination at the beginning of your relationship, nor does he now. You can’t even imagine Sunghoon being insecure or lacking confidence in anything he does, but then there’s Jake. The little brother appears to live in the shadow of Sunghoon. From Jake attending college for the same thing to wanting the same woman that Sunghoon is in love with.

Now the thought of what Jake would do if he knew you were thinking about him this way infiltrates your mind. Would he panic? Surely. Would he blush? Oh yeah, for sure. Would he try to play it off as a joke until realizing you’re serious, visibly shivering as you watch him imagine? Oh– would he tell Sunghoon? Would he get cocky? So many thoughts that are both scary, cute, and…hot.

You look at the clock on your phone again and realize how slowly the time is passing. Jake’s out getting tugged at by some girl, Sunghoon is at work being an obedient employee, and what are you doing? Sitting on the couch in a daze.

Glancing around a bit, you shake your head at a specific thought.

Jake’s room.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Against your better judgment and several hours on hand to spend, you find yourself in Jake’s room. Because of course you do.

You don’t know why your legs carry you here, but then again you kind of do. Curiosity. You don’t really plan on snooping or anything, you just kind of want to see how he lives when he’s by himself. You want to see if he made his bed or folded his clothes. When you note that the loser definitely does not do either of those things, a flash of pastel blue is catching your attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

In your slight panic, you manage to stand by the bathroom door and listen to the footsteps coming down the hallway. It’s definitely Jake because Sunghoon would have called you to let you know he was coming home.

Checking the clock again, it’s barely six and you’ve now got two or so hours pretending that you didn’t just find your panties in Jake’s room. Or, maybe, you don’t have to pretend. Maybe you can just fluster and embarrass him more now.

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

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

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

“Yeah, me either.” He groans, throwing his hand over his face. “You scared the fuck outta me–”

“Ah, you seem frustrated. Why?” You ask, taking a step forward and leaning against the doorframe to his room, crossing your arms. “Sunghoon said you were on a date or something?”

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

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

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

“A ploy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you’re cute?”

Jake freezes now too, glancing away from you with what you think is that shyness you’d seen so much before. It’s definitely shyness, if his quick-flushed cheeks are anything to go by.

For Jake, out of everything that’s just happened to him, at least you think he’s cute, but it’s not like he can have you or actually use your compliment as an ego boost considering you’re dating his big brother.

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

Second opening.

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

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

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

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

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

Before you can even protest, Jake is shuffling past you and rushing towards the laundry room. You follow behind him casually, not in the slightest bit of a hurry with a cheeky smile hidden from his view.

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

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

Jake is talking so fast that it’s almost sad. If you could pinch his flushed cheeks right now, you would.

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

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

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

“N-no.” He says quickly. “Did you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No–” He goes to say with a deep swallow of nervousness, but you interrupt him.

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

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

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

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

“Wait–”

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

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

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

“You don’t? Try and think of a reason then.” You ask, taking a step towards him.

You can see how that single step forward overwhelms him, so much so that he takes a step back, feeling frozen when his eyes glance up at yours. He can’t pull his eyes away this time with the way you’re looking at him.

There’s a smirk against your lips and he can’t sense a single bit of anger. Cautiously, he tries to avoid your question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean,” He admits. “Sometimes.”

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

“Why not all the time?” You follow up, watching the way his lip quivers a bit from the nervousness within him.

Unbearably cute is what Jake is at this moment, trapped and caught.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be loud tonight.”

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

Jake almost feels like prey right now, additionally, he’s confused about the entire situation with you.

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

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

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

Maybe it’s just a phase, surely it’ll pass. He loves his brother.

Then he finds himself questioning if that’s the truth as the night goes on.

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

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

The consideration is furthered when he grows frustrated at the sounds of you through the wall. He can even hear Sunghoon shush you a few times.

Unfortunately, against Jake’s will, his cock starts to grow against the mattress and his thigh, fingers now tucking further under the pillow to find those silk panties that caused his ultimate demise today. It’s instinctual at this point, despite how shameful he feels. He seriously just can’t resist touching himself when he hears you, even through the frustration and annoyance.

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

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

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

From across the wall, you’re enjoying yourself far too much. Jake kind of falls into the back of your guilty mind as your boyfriend loves on you. Sunghoon came home excited, a hand was on you the entire time from the moment he walked through the door until now. Both hands are on you now as he praises you and pries your legs open.

Usually, Sunghoon is rougher. He’d do things that drive you insane, edge you, and deny you pleasure over and over again until he felt it was time to let you let go. The added attempts to be silent only made it more fun for your boyfriend, gagging you with his cock, fingers, or even your own panties. Tonight though, tonight is a little different considering it is the two-year anniversary of his relationship with you.

The plan you had for Sunghoon tonight was for him to use a new toy on you that you’d bought in secret. He always wanted to try double penetration with you but is never willing to share you, and you don’t mind that at all. Still, you wanted to fulfill one of his fantasies, and that’s what the intention is.

To your surprise though, Sunghoon leaves the toy still in its package on the table and has been eating you out for a solid twenty minutes already.

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

And when Sunghoon pulls his head back for a breath, he looks up at you and whispers a small “happy anniversary, baby–” before smiling in such a genuine way that it has your heart crashing with the amount of love you have for him.

He dips back in after the loving words, hugging both of your thighs with his arms and burying his face into you for another ten minutes before, well, he grows a bit bored. He wants to make you cum this way and make it last as long as possible, but now he’s feeling neglected and the image of you with that toy you got is burning images in his mind the more he hears you moan for him.

“Changed my mind,” Sunghoon mutters as he pulls back for a breath and leaves your clit entirely abandoned.

He hears you whimper at the loss of pressure and honestly, he’s always loved the way you sound when you do it. He finds himself reaching for the toy much quicker than he originally planned, soothing you through your disappointment with a fond voice.

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The fact that Jake can hear his brother tell you to play with yourself makes him feel insane. Only because of the way you start moaning again and give him even more to think about while over here all alone.

Fuck, the thought of walking in on you one day with your fingers inside of yourself, not quite reaching where you want them to, asking him to take over for you?

Jake almost wants to put his ear to the wall.

Wait, why shouldn’t he? He wants to hear you.

Cock still in hand and tangled against your panties, he shuffles to his feet and presses his ear against the wall. You sound much more clear now when he chokes back his own moan, knowing you’d probably hear it more clearly too considering how loud he is.

Knowing you can hear him though? That means Sunghoon can also hear him, so he tries his best to hold it back as he starts thrusting himself against the silk in his hand.

He does well until he hears a choked-out whimper, a slap, and some crude words coming from his brother’s lips. On any other day of listening in, his cock would instantly go soft hearing his brother but what he says to you through these thin as fuck walls has him biting his lip in an attempt to silence his own moan.

“You like being stuffed with two?” Jake hears at first, followed by another whimper from you. “So wet, it slid right in beside me–”

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

“Oh, fuck–” Jake groans out towards himself, looking down at his painfully hard cock against your panties. Dripping, absolutely an utter fucking mess in his own palm over you.

He starts to move his hand this time, faster than what his hips were doing. Only part of him is trying to match the sounds of skin slapping skin, moving his hand much faster than what he’s hearing happen to you.

He’s sure you’d moan like that for him too. Wouldn’t even need two to make you be so loud, surely.

And then he’s starting to shake, rolling his head a bit to where his forehead is against the wall. He’s shamelessly out of breath when he whispers his own words to you as his cock begins to fucking weep his cum against your panties. Words of, ‘yeah, you like that?’ and “Better than him, right?”

And when Jake backs away from the wall, allowing the muffled sound of your loud moaning to be further and further from his ear, he collapses on his bed in a deep breath and then trails his eyes back over towards the wall.

You’re right there.

You know exactly what he’s doing in here but now he can’t tell if you’re actually being loud because you told him you would, or if it’s because Sunghoon really is that good.

The jealousy hits again. It isn’t fair.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

You went too far on your fucking anniversary then proceeded to fall even more in love with Sunghoon.

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

Except that doesn’t happen because the moment you walk in and see Jake lounging by himself on the couch, shirtless, you find yourself avoiding him more than he’s avoiding you.

Though he immediately got up when you walked through the door with a small apology and rushed towards his room, you had to stop yourself from turning around and going straight back home. Sunghoon is here though, back turned towards you as he stirs something in a bowl.

“Hey babe, can you come help me?” Your boyfriend calls out, glancing at you from over his shoulder and showing the smallest glimpse of something smeared against his cheek.

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

“I'll be back in a minute, let me put my bag in your room.” You say, coming up behind him and planting a kiss on his shoulder.

He lends you a short nod in response, turning his attention back to his mixing bowl with a smile plastered across his face. Not a day goes by where he doesn’t miss you, honestly.

And as you make your way down the hallway to Sunghoon’s room, you note how Jake’s door is closed. You’re thankful for that, as the image of his stupidly attractive shirtless body still appears to be fucking burned into your brain.

It’s stupid, honestly, you have a whole Sunghoon in the kitchen waiting for you, who will probably make you cum a minimum of three times tonight, and you’re panic-walking past his little brother’s bedroom because you’re incredibly fucking attracted to him.

Ridiculous.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The self-control you once had is no longer present in your head. The plan to leave it be is less and less attractive in your brain the more you take in the image of Jake in front of you at the table texting away on his phone.

You watch him shamelessly as Sunghoon goes back and forth in the kitchen. You’re almost completely skewed from his view, thanks to the wall separating the kitchen and dining room, as you sit here across from Jake. He’s wearing a shirt now, rude, and is only glancing at you from time to time.

He’s not saying a damn thing to you though, which is annoying.

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

From under the table, you gently kick against his leg to get his attention and his eyes snap up toward you. You look down instantly, pretending as if you weren’t kicking him to get his attention at all. All so you’re the one ignoring him instead.

But your leg stays there, occasionally kicking against him just to see how long it takes for him to stop reacting to it.

Scrolling through your own phone now, you’re swiping through videos, listening to Sunghoon clattering through the cupboards, and feeling incredibly warm sitting in front of Jake. You don’t know what’s gotten into you when it comes to him, honestly.

Finally, you slowly trail your eyes back up to his face and note that he does the same, at the exact same time.

The two of you share a moment of silence looking at each other. You can almost feel his eyes pull you in without intent. It feels dangerous just to look at him, seeing him in a newer light than what you’d seen in him when it was just amusement on your end. You wonder if he can tell. Probably not.

He doesn’t look away from you, and you’re not sure why. He just stays still and silent, blinking back at you.

Maybe he’s being pulled in too, like a silent agreement communicated just through eye contact. The electricity in the space between the two of you is nothing short of dangerous. Your body almost acts on its own when you raise your lips into a half smile at him and plant your foot on the chair between his legs.

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

He doesn’t move, trailing his eyes back to you now with a curious look. You continue, pressing your foot forward just slightly. Jake jumps again at the feeling and shoots his eyes to the opening of the kitchen.

Sunghoon is still facing away, stirring something in a pot on the stove. Thank fuck.

He’s not strong enough to push your foot away. In fact, he can hardly comprehend the situation at all, or why he presses his hips forward out of need rather than want. He knows it’s wrong to have you touching him in any way whether it’s your foot or not, this is not okay to be doing. But god, he yearns for you so badly. He’ll take anything, everything he can get.

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

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

It doesn’t take long before you start giving more pressure against his weak grinds. Each time you glance up just to get a look at his poker-face, you can tell he’s looking at you in disbelief and shifting his eyes to keep checking for Sunghoon.

You can tell he grinds harder when Sunghoon isn’t at risk of seeing, and he moves more weakly when his alarm bells are ringing. If anything, the fact that Jake is falling apart in front of you and trying to pretend he isn’t is enough to have you pressing forward more.

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

When you glance up again, this time because you really can’t help yourself at this point, you note that Jake is really trying to concentrate on looking normal despite his body obviously shifting back and forth under the table.

He’s insanely obvious, and already it makes even you panic at the fact that he’s really losing his ability to remain calm.

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

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

“No, I don’t think so–” He says nervously, leaning forward to see your phone.

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

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

Jake lets out a fake laugh at the video, shifting his eyes to you apologetically before seating himself back down and looking dead into your eyes.

There, he feels you adjust your foot again, this time further into his chair where you can blatantly feel how desperately hard he’s gotten over this.

Jake can’t just sit here and let this continue for too long, despite really, really fucking needing the touch. And it sucks, considering it’s the first time you’ve actually come onto him and it just has to be with Sunghoon barely even a room over?

God, fuck. Fuck!

Right here, right now, Jake decides he’s going to take what he can get, even if it makes you feel sorry for him.

You’re shocked when you feel his hand grab your foot and hold it in place before very harshly grinding against it. Watching him from across the table, he makes it very obvious as to what he’s doing but still, you find yourself falling apart at the way he parts his lips, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to hold back a moan.

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

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

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

Jake needed to like, not come in his pants from that. Not in front of you. Not in front of his own fucking brother.

He doesn’t even fucking like feet! But, well, he likes you.

You offered pressure and he fucking took it. He needed to finish himself off and not have to sit there in cum-soiled pants pretending like it didn’t just happen. So, naturally, he ran to his room to finish himself off out of frustration. Thankfully he’s close enough to reach climax within two to three strokes, right there leaning against his door.

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

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

You, on the other hand, didn’t look at Jake after he came back. Not much, anyway. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s mostly just that you’re coming to terms with the fact that you just crossed a line and you’re not sorry about it. Even after Sunghoon places a spoon at your lips and the soup is definitely the most delicious he’s ever made.

Even after he’s got his arm around you at the table with that same loving smile plastered on his lips, sitting across from his little brother who just eye fucked you while grinding against your foot, you struggle to decide who you’d rather look at.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The events of yesterday stay fresh on your mind as Sunghoon lays next to you half-awake and scratching against his arm before cuddling in closer to you. He’s so warm and all you can do is wonder why you're risking this comfort to have fun with his little brother.

You’ve already crossed a line and gone too far. You did exactly what you said you weren’t going to do and exactly what you never thought you could do. You’re probably not going to be able to stop even if you wanted to, so you opt to just–not think about when it’s gonna happen again or if it’s gonna happen again.

Saturday almost flies by and before you know it, all three of you are lounging in the living room to watch a movie. Usually, Jake isn’t as present when you’re with Sunghoon but since everything started, he makes himself known much more.

He includes himself in things and engages in more conversation. You wonder if it’s because he’s waiting for you to do something again. The worst part about all of it is that you can tell Sunghoon is enjoying the time he’s spending with you and Jake together.

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

The movie goes on like that and Jake can’t help but feel like it’s taking forever to be over with. Then again, he’s staring at your legs on his lap more than the movie on the screen. It gets worse when there's a jumpscare and your legs are tensing up and moving around against him.

At least this time it’s not your fucking foot and he’s got a calf muscle to work with.

You did it both intentionally and unintentionally. You weren’t exactly throwing your legs on him to get him to rub against them or anything, it was mostly just to fluster him, but Jake proves himself as someone with zero self-control once again.

You feel him twitch under your legs and shamefully, you immediately feel arousal drip between your legs. The fact that he gets you so riled up so fast will always be a mystery to you, honestly.

The good news? Being turned on isn’t so bad right now, considering you have Sunghoon right here to help you take care of it without much convincing.

Adjusting yourself, you pull your legs from Jake and take a second to focus on his lap. The tent in his pants is obvious, but Sunghoon pays no mind as his eyes stay on the screen. You watch the way Jake covers himself quickly and looks at you in confusion.

As he looks at you, you move a bit to look at Sunghoon.

Without warning, your boyfriend is thrown off guard by you suddenly kissing his neck. If Jake doesn’t have self-control, neither do you.

And in your defense, you’re not trying to dangle your relationship in front of him, really, you’re not. It’s not your fault that Jake got hard and that caused a chain reaction in getting you wet.

Sunghoon pulls back to look at you. His face is somewhat concerned but still, he’s smiling as he makes attempts to dodge your kisses.

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

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

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

“Okay, okay–” Sunghoon relents in another whisper, gently pulling himself from the couch and grabbing your hand.

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

“Uh, sure.” Jake responds, knowing full fucking well that you’re turned on because of him and now you’re gonna go fuck his brother to take care of it.

This is so annoying.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

“Getting off on the thought of other people seeing how wet you get for me?”

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

Jake, from across the hall, once again hears it all because it wakes him up. Sunghoon hasn’t even attempted to keep his voice down while talking to you. Why? Because even he is far too turned on to pay attention to anything outside of this bathroom right now.

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

Jake’s ears perk up at the sound of his brother saying that, already stirring in his pants at the very idea of you getting off to that.

How desperate were you?

He wonders how you answer, or if you do. He wonders if you were desperate for him or if it was really for Sunghoon.

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

And he’s drunk.

SimJake_ sent a photo:

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

Never did you want a paper trail or some type of proof that you and Jake are involved in this weird….thing together. His message isn’t even sexual, it's just a bit intimate that your boyfriend’s brother is sending you selfies while drunk even though you came onto him first.

He’s attractive, and entirely too cute right now trying to approach you via fucking Instagram because he won’t do it to your face. Then again, Sunghoon is always around, so maybe that’s why he hasn’t done anything about it.

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

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

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

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

SimJake_ : because i do

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

You: oh yeah, you’re definitely drunk

SimJake_ : am i being too weird?

SimJake_: because you’re the one who started it

You: me? I started it? last time i checked, you’re the one who stole my panties?? you pervert????

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

You: that’s……fair

SimJake_: so…

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

You: what are you drinking?

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

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

SimJake_ : yep

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

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

SimJake_ : because i want you

Oh.

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

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

SimJake_ : or we can pretend i never messaged you and you can delete the messages

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

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

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

SimJake_: yea

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

SimJake_ : yesterday

You: oh yeah?

SimJake_: yea i washed them when Sunghoon was at work…um

SimJake_: can you maybe wear them again

God, he really is that desperate.

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

You: i’ll think about it

SimJake_ : okay…so…

SimJake_: um….did you like the selfie

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

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

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

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

SimJake_ : wait what

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

You: are you all flustered now?

SimJake_ : maybe,,,,

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

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

SimJake_ : would you?

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

You: flustered now?

SimJake_ : yea, wanna see?

SimJake_ sent a photo:

You: jesus christ, you’re…

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

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

You: you looked hot when you did it tho

SimJake_ : am i really that big?

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

SimJake_: could have one ;)

You: ….yeah

SimJake_: yeah?

SimJake_ sent a photo:

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

You sent a photo:

SimJake_ : oh fuck

SimJake_: you’re wet?

SimJake_: sorry i wasnt expecting that

SimJake_: can i save it

You: no

You sent a photo:

SimJake_: you should give me those panties instead

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

SimJake_: will you still wear the other ones too?

You: you want //two// pairs?

SimJake_ : yeah :(

You: ill think about it

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

SimJake_ : can i call you?

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

You: okay…

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

When you answer the phone after taking a deep breath, your eyes are nearly popping out of your head.

Jake is shameless.

All those nights of hearing his mans muffled through the wall are now coming through crisp and clear on the speaker. If you close your eyes, it’s like you’re in his room with him.

You don’t speak and instead, listen. You had expected him to answer the phone stuttering, trying to dirty talk but ultimately failing. It appears his drunken state offers him more than just liquid courage, but liquid lust as well.

For a moment you stop and contemplate hanging up. Jake is drunk and you can’t help but feel as though you’re taking advantage of him. Then again, previously sober he basically fucked himself against your foot at the dinner table.

“Feels good?” You ask with a chuckle.

You can hear the movement of his body through the speaker and you’re aware that through the lack of slapping sounds, your panties are probably silencing what his hand is doing.

Jake barely answers. A quick “mhm” rings through your ears alongside his deep breaths as a response instead. This isn’t typically how phone sex would go, considering dirty talking is what gets a person there. Perhaps Jake has never done this before, then again, maybe he gets off on just knowing you’re listening to him at all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what?” Jake asks with a hopeful voice, this time pulling his hand away completely and feeling his heart double in speed.

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

Like music to Jake’s ears, he feels the eagerness in his body swell to the point that it’s difficult to maintain. Sunghoon has everything that Jake wants. A good career, a nice house, needed life skills. All of those things could be obtained with hard work and effort for Jake, but you. You were the one thing he was never supposed to have. You were the one aspect of Sunghoon’s life that Jake wouldn’t have the ability to work his way towards, but he did.

He has you right now, in this moment, and he feels like nothing could break him. He knows it’s wrong just like you do, but Jake is selfish too.

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

A small part of Jake’s brain is still anxious though. That little still-sober sliver of his moral code trying to fight its way to the front. Does he go with his heart or with his brain? Should he stop? Will he be able to look you in the eye tomorrow? Will he be able to ever look his brother in the eye?

He isn’t sure. Both his heart and his brain tells him to go for you, the only thing telling him not to is the thought of his brother. The good news about that is, with you on the other end of this line, Sunghoon is pushed to the back of his mind.

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

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

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

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

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

“In my panties.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wet for you?”

That’s all it takes before Jake is gasping out a string of curses, the orgasm both sending him into a sobering world of pleasure and an even drunker state of wanting you to himself. Strings of white spurting all along his belly and going as far as his chin, he throws his other hand up and bites hard against the skin on his knuckle as he works through it.

He doesn’t want to moan through this, he wants to hear just how fast your fingers are moving, how fast you’d want him to fuck you. He wants to think about how you must be imagining him right now, feeling good and breaking the rules for him.

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

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

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

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

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

He snaps a quick photo for you, and in your head you whimper a small “yes” at the sound of the shutter from his camera.

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

Sunghoon would kill Jake if he found out, and you, what would he even do with you? Break up with you? Insult you?

Still, the thought of him finding out is the only reason you feel guilty. Because you still don’t regret showing Jake, letting him hear you, or hearing and seeing him. In fact, you don’t intend to stop either. You want him too much at this point, and he seems to be in the same place as you when it comes to this situation. Jake wouldn’t tell on you because then, he would be telling on himself.

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

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

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

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

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

On his end though, Jake is in his room staring at the two photos you sent to him the night before. Partially wondering if it was all just a dream at first, these pictures of you are the truth of how you feel towards him though. At least last night, that’s how it was. So, when you never text him back today? He doesn’t think too hard about why despite his heart feeling shattered by it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

You cautiously stand to your feet with a deep breath. The fact that you allow yourself to continuously dig the hole deeper for yourself? So deep that you’ll never be able to pull yourself from it? It’s laughable at how tiny of a worry that is in your mind when you know that Jake is seething in his bedroom right now.

Maybe it's just what Jake does to your thoughts? The images of him are too good to be able to ignore, the guilt not nearly enough to make you stop wanting him.

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

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

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

You smirk for a moment, noting how much of a typical college boy Jake is. Messy room, messy hair, messy relationship with his brother’s girlfriend. You can imagine he feels pride in what he was able to do with you, and that’s not even an ego boost on your end.

You wonder if he’s told his friends anything at all. Not about who he likes or who he’s been getting intimate with even if not too-directly, but like, that he’s been getting fed sexual fantasies by someone in general. You wonder if he talks you up, then again, what if he hasn’t mentioned it at all?

Why does that thought upset you?

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, hold on–” A voice sounds through his headset and you can’t help but feel happy for him in the way they, for some reason, can’t believe Jake’s got some girl in this city interested in him.

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

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

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

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

“Stay,” You say. “And hush.” You lower his mic back into place where he is no longer muted and listen as his friends go from talking shit to starting up another game.

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

Maybe not with you, but still.

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

All you can think about right now is being the person to fulfill the fantasies you assume he has. More turned on by the idea that Jake must want it so badly from you than admitting how badly you want it to be true.

When you reach around him, lying your hand against his lap, he’s already incredibly hard and stares down at it as the countdown screen on his game begins.

From out of sight, you don’t want Jake to see you. In fact, you want to see how badly he plates this game through this, because it’s not only cute but will actually be fucking hilarious. Especially because it’s the first time you’re moving on him rather than him grinding against whatever you have to offer.

Ignoring the call outs of enemies in game, both of you spiral into a world of your own again when you grab his length from over his sweatpants and just–you just hold him for a moment. The weight of it grows much heavier as he somehow manages to get more hard at the fact that you’re in the room with him. Plus, for Jake at least, your used panties sitting right there only drives his cock further to pulse and beg for your hand.

“Jesus–” Jake groans when you grab him.

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

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

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

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

You silently gasp noting how Jake is even bigger than the photos gave him credit for, thicker than you genuinely imagined now that you see it from over his shoulder. Jake tries to turn his head this time to look at you, but you’re quick to catch his cheek and turn it back to the screen with a chuckle.

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

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

“I don’t care–” He sighs desperately, thrusting his hips up harder. “Please, just don’t stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When his pre-cum is essentially drenching your palm, the slide of your hand keeps a fast pace, pulling groans out of him every few seconds.

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

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

He’s choking each moan that threatens to be too loud, and honestly, you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He goes from releasing your hand just to stare down at the way you grip him, to grabbing it again and fucking into it harder.

It’s way too endearing seeing him like this.

He tries to turn to see you again shortly after, so desperate to kiss you, so desperate just to fucking see what you like like when you’re doing this to him, but you do your best to remain behind him as you grab the base of his cock and cause him to groan in pain.

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

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

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jake writhes under the painful grasp, but his hips still chase when you drag your hand back down.

He’s no longer being quiet, no longer pretending to care about his dead character on the screen, re-spawning and dying every few seconds. He’s a free kill for any enemy player right now and you can tell his friend’s are pissed in the way the screaming from the headset gets louder despite the distance.

The chat box on screen is being spammed just as aggressively, and Jake can barely even open his eyes to process it.

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

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

“Wanna see me so bad, huh?” You chuckle, working him up and knowing that he’s got to be close with the way he shamelessly moans in the most annoyed, frustrated way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it,” You whisper from behind. “Give it to me.”

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

“That’s so hot,” Jake comments with a deep breath, and only then do you realize the small moan you’d let out during that intense thought of him. Especially as you watch his cum is spill out in loads, leaving a mess all over himself and your hands.

Finally, after making a mess of him, you smile to yourself and do your best to appear not as flustered as you actually are.

Either way, a job well done.

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon comes home later than he did last time, tired and droopy. He finds himself drawn to you more than usual, noting that your eyes are sparkling a little brighter upon walking through his door.

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

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

Fully intending to keep them both, you find yourself feeling more fulfilled despite the awful moral. Sunghoon isn’t willing to share, but Jake is.

And you, you don’t have to share.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Saturday was as normal as always. Jake pops in and out of his room, not even once acting as if something suspicious is going on. If anything, Sunghoon is a little more happy to see you spend time with Jake when he’s not in his room.

It was awkward at first. Jake’s always been shy but it seems like he’s loosened up after realizing you’re a permanent part of the picture for as long as you’re with Sunghoon. He’s endeared by the way you bully his brother the same way he does.

Even that little crush Jake had on you when he first met you appears to have fallen into more of a sibling-like relationship to Sunghoon. He thought it was cute that Jake had a crush, after all, it’s you. Sunghoon fucking fell head over heels when you gave him attention and wouldn’t be caught dead releasing his grip on you once he asked you to be his girlfriend. The point is, Sunghoon knew Jake had a small crush but was pleased to see it turn into something more casual and comfortable.

He likes his life, loves his girlfriend, and loves his brother. Nothing could get better than spending time with the two of you, even if Jake jumps up to go be a recluse in his room from time to time.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Jake,” Heeseung grits through the mic.

“What?” Jake sighs nonchalantly, throwing his arms behind his head as he smiles to himself through the webcam.

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

“I muted him.” Jay says with a shrug through his own camera..

“Yeah, me too.” Jungwon follows up, all eyes now falling to Heeseung, who is avoiding the camera and scratching the back of his neck with a shrug.

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

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

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

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

“Because my brother is with his girlfriend and it’s weird if they know what happens when they’re not here.” Jake explains, receiving a nod from everyone.

“She left her panties,” Jake now adds in a cheeky voice, removing his hands from behind his head and sitting up from his relaxed position. “Wanna see?”

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

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

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

“That’s so gross.” Heeseung waves them off, averting his eyes and trying to pretend he’s not interested.

“Jake’s full of shit.” Jungwon chimes in quickly, only to be shut down by Heeseung’s weird need to defend.

“You heard her talk to him through the mic, there’s no way he’s lying.”

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

“Well, I lied, I didn’t mute him.” Jungwon finally admits. “Still, though. There’s no way she gave you those.”

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

To his dismay, you groan at his roaming hands as he wakes you up. Sunghoon knows you love being woken up this way, but he also knows to stop if you’re making a sound like this over it.

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

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

“Head is pounding.”

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

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

Later, you wake to Sunghoon gently patting your cheek.

“You want some food? Might help?”

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

Making your way into the kitchen, you note that Jake’s bedroom door is open but he isn’t anywhere to be found.

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

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

Your heart starts beating in your ears at the thought that you really thought Sunghoon wouldn’t know any of Jake’s friends. Sure, you thought that maybe they were just online friends, or maybe people Jake met after Sunghoon moved out of his parent’s house, but you recognize that fucking name.

Thankfully, you had changed your voice just slightly as you spoke to Jake the other day. Surely this isn’t what would ruin the entire arrangement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hold back the smile of Jake’s blatant lies towards Sunghoon.

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

In Sunghoon’s head, he’s mature enough to discuss it like an adult with his brother. Guidelines and rules, moving Jake in wasn’t going to change his sex life with you, if anything, he had already told Jake to invest in some decent headphones or earplugs because he’s gonna hear some shit otherwise.

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon: good news and great news

You: oh?

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon: I leave tomorrow if I accept.

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon: love you :)

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

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

Jake: Sunghoon’s leaving for 3 days

You: yep

Jake: ….do i even need to say it

You: nope

Jake: gonna clean my room

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Dropping Sunghoon off is weirdly bitter sweet. His confidence is clearly through the roof as he kisses you goodbye. Even after he walks away, he quickly rushes back to you and asks for a second kiss, citing it’s for good luck. You knew he’d do amazing for this event, even with it so last minute. Everything Sunghoon did was with effort and thought put into it. You’re not the only person who sees it either.

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

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

You sit in your car for a moment, thinking back on all of those small moments with Jake, wondering now if you still want him or if those moments were enough to satisfy the curiosity of what could be.

As expected, with a huff, you accept the fact that even through the guilt, you still want him.

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

Before, Jake was cute with his little crush. Weird even, with the way he lingered for too long to see you kiss his brother. Now, when you look at him, he looks like he isn’t at all the cute, shy little brother. He’s Jake, a man with wants and needs that have your name written all over them. You can’t fucking help yourself, and now being able to indulge yourself fully along side him, Sunghoon is drowned out in the back of your mind, as usual when you find yourself alone with Jake.

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

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

Not a single word is said, everything already spoken and understood with nothing more than the look when he opened that fucking door. Jake leads you to his room, and the energy in the air is so electrifying that it scares you. Never has a touch to your hand, or a leading pull to a bedroom made you feel so weightless.

You think back to when you held his length in your hand, you had all of the power that day. Now, you don’t think Jake realizes what he could get away with. You’re falling into the same mindset you have with Sunghoon, one where you want, need, and could beg to be touched, but you still yourself from falling too far into it.

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

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

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

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

It happens so fast. Too fast, almost, with the way he steps up to you confidently. You just now realize that he’s taller than you when he skews his head and looks down at your lips. Well, you knew he was taller than you, but at this moment he seems so much bigger than usual.

His breathing is uneven as he stares at your lips and you can tell he’s doing his best to be confident because you haven’t made a move towards him at all like you usually would.

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

“I’m having a really hard time holding back,” Jake whispers out, inches from your face. “This is going to be embarrassing for me.”

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

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

A perfect dream.

His hands are cupping your face though, you can feel the way his fingertips press into your cheeks as he makes his attempts to deepen the kiss. And fuck, he’s kissing you like you’re his girlfriend. He still moves his lips in a hungry and desperate way though, in a way that has you struggling to breathe by the force of it alone.

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

Still, his face is slack as he stares up at you, eyes struggling to stay trained on your face for too long as you begin to take off your jacket and reach over to pull at his shirt. So badly do you want to see him shirtless again, and he doesn’t argue, eagerly lifting it off of his body and lying back again.

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

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

“Yes, god, let me see it.” Jake urges you, tilting his head with a swallow and training his eyes on your thighs.

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

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

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

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

“Oh god,” Jake gasps as his eyes focus on the fact that you’re leaving a small wet spot against his pants.

That’s your pussy on him.

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

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

“I can feel it–” Jake chokes back in a happy groan, referring to your slick seeping through his pants and onto him.

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

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

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

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

“How are you already so wet?” He questions in a groan, still trying to process the fact that this is actually happening. His grip on you loosens, letting you move and instead grabbing the hem of your dress himself and holding it up so he can watch you slide against him better.

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

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

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

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

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

“Take your pants off, Jakey.” You finally say, frustrated that clothing always gets in the way of things.

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

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jake whines, pushing your hips against him and keeping himself upright so that your tits are pressed right up against his own, careful not to fall back against the mattress so he can plant his lips against your neck. “Oh my god, you have no idea.”

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

“Don’t–” You scold him, and he simply nods and goes back to kissing against your neck and shoulder, because if that’s the only thing he can’t do in this situation, he’d be a damn idiot to argue with you about it.

“Right, wouldn’t want him knowing that I got you this wet, right?” Jake mocks the situation as a whole as his confidence blooms, using reality as a form of ego boost, hoping to god that you lean into it rather than run from it. “He’d know I do it better.”

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

“Prove it and maybe I’ll play along.” You try to challenge him, but you know that he might actually be right.

His size rivals his brother’s, but can he work it the same way? Can the shy, timid little brother actually satisfy you the way your boyfriend does?

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

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

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

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lift yourself and allow his hand to disappear between the two of you. You can feel him position himself right at your entrance and all you need to do is sink down.

You lend a pause, staring at him for a moment. Looking straight into his eyes and recognizing that for the first time in over two years now, you’re about to fuck someone that isn’t Sunghoon.

He stares back at you with anticipation, and when you sink down just a tiny bit, he’s lunging his lips forward and kissing you again so desperately that any doubt in your mind withers away with all that guilt you know you shouldn’t be ignoring.

Continuously as you sink down inch by inch, feeling him stretch you out in a searing type of pleasure, Jake just groans into your mouth with wet kisses. You can feel his chest heave against you as he feels your walls start to envelop him and when you’re finally seated, he pulls you down with him as he falls against the mattress.

There, in a hug, his mindless kissing becomes even more vacant as he holds you in place, fucking his hips up and into you in an aggressive pace without giving you any time to adjust. His lips release from yours and his moans come out strangled, breathless, and entirely desperate for you.

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

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

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

Jake looks at you lovingly, wishing so badly that his brother wasn’t in the way of having this all the time. And then? his arms release you and he’s lifting your face with one of his hands, thumb and pointer finger pinching your chin.

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

“Sorry, I just–” He says before getting a look at your face. Glancing between both of your empty eyes, he ends up losing any thought in his head when he notes how blown your pupils are, face still contorted in a silent moan as you start to grind yourself against him. Chasing the pressure he was just slamming into you.

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

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

Without thinking, Jake doesn’t even know why he does it, but he keeps his cock buried deeply into you and knocks you over. He follows your body, adjusting himself behind you into the big spoon position and pulling your leg up to drape over his hip.

There, he slips out of you only slightly to hear you whine at the loss. You’ve gone so silent save for moaning and he thinks he’s in love with you. So fucking in love.

He makes quick work to stuff you again and smiles at the way you throw your head back, opening your pretty and glistening eyes just for a split second to look at him.

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

“That’s right,” He boasts, trying his best not to drool as your droopy eyes struggle to stay on him for too long. “Look at me.”

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

Paired with his words? Goddamn.

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

He’s quick to abandon your clit to push your legs open again, draping it right back in the same spot over his own hip. He can imagine how spread out you look, despite not being able to see it in this position. He’s heard time and time that women like this angle, and if your sounds are anything to go by? He can say that it’s absolutely fucking true.

This time, when you reach back and pull his face to yours, now kissing him with more force than you have before, he loses composure again. Any chance of his focus being on you and you alone is now long fucking gone, baby.

Even as he tries to put his fingers against your clit again, the movements are messy, messy, messy. Thankfully, his hips are fucking you with full intent now. He’s trying his best to control how good he feels so that way he can at least try to focus on your pleasure more, but god, fuck.

After one particularly deep thrust, you shiver and he fucking loses it.

“Oh my god, I found it?” He asks, experimentally pressing his hips up the same way. “Right here? Baby, yeah?” He continues, repeatedly slamming you with the head of his cock bumping just where you need it.

“Fuck-” You choke out, your body jolting without intent again and feeling shockwaves of what you can only describe as mini orgasms shooting throughout your muscles. “Ahh- Jake, don’t stop!” You frantically encourage him, mouth falling slack against his lips now, giving in to the pleasure and now losing all ability to speak at all.

He does, pressing his hips harder this time, a grunt spilling from his bitten lips with every forceful thrust. Repeatedly hitting the soft spot inside of you, over and over again, ultimately sending you into a world of something you’ve, strangely, never felt before in terms of sex.

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

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

His hips are going at a pace faster now than he thought possible, and with his fingers messily working your clit, paired with his cock driving into the single most pleasurable spot inside of you, you find your body tensing up and your mind erasing every thought and memory.

It’s so much to feel at once but you feel too weak to stop him for event the smallest moment of collecting yourself.

“Ah, you’re squeezing me–” He breathes out, words broken with his own moans as he does his best to keep pace to work you through it. “So tight–” He manages to breathe out again, not yet realizing that you’re quite literally about to cum all over him.

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

“Do not pull out,” You groan as your orgasm continues to choke you of your breath. “Feels so good, just–” You cry out, pressing yourself back and enveloping the inches of him that he had pulled from you. “I wanna feel it.”

For a brief moment you remembered when he released from your hand, pressing himself slowly and roughly into your first.

You were right.

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

Unfortunately, just like that, you feel empty with how fast he pulls out of you. You’re in shock, actually.

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

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

“I don’t know how to like, end this.” He admits against your shoulder, still trying to steady his breath from the orgasm he had ten seconds ago.

Instantly, Jake found himself in a post-nut state of guilt and kind of scared of how much he adored fucking you.

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

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

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

“Yeah, but–”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it is.” You admit, leaning towards him. “But If we never talk about it…,”

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

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

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

You laugh, despite it being the worse fucking joke in the world. Running hand in hand with Jake into a fire that you both fucking searched for is kind of…scary? But also elating?

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

Somehow, he lightens the mood.

“Damn, I must be special.”

You guess he is.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #park sunghoon smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #jake sim smut #enha smut

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 8 months

Text

HONEY, I’M HOME ─── jackson rippner ✧♤

ೃ⁀➷ “You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.” — ‘Letters to Milena’, Franz Kafka

pairing. jackson rippner x assassin!reader

summary. jackson hires a prostitute the night before meeting his target. only thing is, you’re not a prostitute— you’re an assassin hired to kill him. but he catches your eye, and instead, you keep him for yourself.

warnings. swearing, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, slight housewife kink, kidnapping, drugging, pretty toxic relationship lmao, somnophilia, dubcon, hate-sex kinda, guns, choking, stockholm syndrome, cervix fucking, jackson gets a taste of his own medicine basically😭, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.1k

a/n. OKAY i know i said it was going into the direction of dom!reader but i got possessed and now,,, now we have this hate sex filth🫡

When Jackson comes to, the very first thing his mind registers in your perfume. It’s sweet and vanilla-y and entirely intoxicating, sending his mind whirling back to prehistoric days, childhood days, a vague mother figure he’d long forgotten about pressing sugar cookie dough onto a metal pan.

Instead, as Jackson’s eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the bright, warm lamp-light curling around him and the various furniture in the room, he sees you, sitting in front of him on the floor.

Your knees are pulled up and tucked under your chin, and it seems you’ve fallen asleep, your face peaceful and serene as soft inhales and exhales of breath leave you.

You look like a pure angel, dolled up in a silk lace dress and neat bows so pristinely Jackson swore he could see a halo resting above your soft locks, but he knows you’re someone who can kill — has killed.

Jackson had been staying in a motel, readying himself to meet the target he was stalking the next day — some politico's daughter, y’know, perfect blackmail material — when you’d knocked on his door, dressed in a skanky skintight dress and garter belt, promising some fun for a flimsy fifty.

Prostitution was illegal in this state, but Jackson had some money and time to kill — plus, if he didn’t get something now he’d probably fuck his target, which wasn’t really encouraged considering he could get attached, all that bullshit job professionalism. He wouldn’t, obviously, but his higher-ups didn’t think the same.

So he agreed; you looked stupid enough, and with that nice pair on you, those sweet curves, you were bound to be a good fuck. And you were definitely enough for him to handle— handle killing, he meant. It’d be easy: get you a little tipsy ‘cause it was his “kink” or some shit like that, kill you when you’re coming, dispose of your body, and meet the target in the morning.

But then you’d kissed him, hungry and desperate and rough, and totally, completely, slipping the pill tucked under your tongue down his throat.

Jackson realized immediately, his hands darting to the gun he had tucked in his belt, but you punched him in the stomach and the jaw before he could even undo the safety. And then he’d done it: he’d swallowed the drug, and the effects were instantaneous, the connection between his thoughts and his limbs losing focus, body sluggish like he was wading through water.

So suddenly had the situation had gone from him hiring a prostitute to getting fucking drugged by one, and he felt his composure slipping, the outrage burning in his lungs. Jackson thought himself to be a logical, well-thought out man who planned things to the tee, and this was not fucking following his plan.

“What did you - do t’ me?!” He spat, voice growing slurred, bent over and clutching his stomach.

“Mm,” you considered telling him, pursing your lips and watching him sway back and forth, “just a little something to calm you down. But, honey, I think you better sit down… it's not a mild drug.”

“Answer my fucking—“ Jackson started caustically, then felt that familiar pins and needles sensation appear in his arms, then spread to his legs, before finally falling to the floor.

“See?” You cooed, standing above him. You watched him struggle against the drug for a moment, before grinning and pulling him up off the floor onto the bed.

Jackson listlessly fought your touch, slowly thrashing and kicking at you; his limbs may have grown numb, but his inhibitions had not lowered whatsoever, nor his paranoia. Good paranoia, in this situation, just not so good that it kicked in before you shoved a paralytic down his throat.

You rolled your eyes, sitting down beside him and pushing his head onto your lap, digging your elbow into his chest to make him stay in place.

Jackson choked at the pressure, blinking rapidly. “Who th- the -- fuck are you?”

“I’m an assassin, honey. I’m gonna kill you — or, y’know, I’m supposed to kill you.” You beamed at him, “but I can’t do that, now can I? That’d be a waste of such a pretty face.”

Jackson’s brows knitted exasperatedly, mouth contorting to speak, but nothing came out. In fact, his mouth hadn’t been moving at all— his face had grown numb, now blankly staring up at you.

“There we go,” you said happily. “The drug’s all kicked in now, hasn't it? I’ll speak freely, ‘cause y’can’t answer me anymore, not even scream or cry.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping like you were finally able to fucking relax, and began petting his hair before continuing. “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you? Stalking that politician’s daughter… were you gonna fuck her? Threaten her dad, have some fun, then kill them both?”

Jackson’s breathing grew more furious, eyes widening— or, they would’ve, if he could move. This was about his job, about the target, not just some fucking freak accident and a crazy prostitute.

You frowned, shaking your head. “You’ve gotta do more research on the people you blackmail, honey— Mr. Politican’ll do anything to keep his little princess safe. Even murder.”

You then got up, and Jackson watched you pull something out of your tights, unable to respond or protest or even fucking move, frozen still on the cheap motel mattress.

“But like I said, you’re too cute to die like that. I think I’ll keep you for myself.” You winked, before pricking him in the neck with the needle that was hidden in your tights.

His breath hitched, but there was no use: black quickly curled into the edges of his vision, and one second passed, then another, then he was out.

That brought him back to now, waking up with his arms handcuffed behind him and his legs tied roughly to a wooden chair. He rustled, pulling against the cuffs as quietly as possible, gaze still obsessively trained on your every micro-movement.

But it didn't matter: your eyes opened the moment you’d heard his breath catch and stutter, and you got up lightly, dreamily, like you were some figment of Jackson’s imagination rather than a psychopathic kidnapping assassin.

“Morning, honey,” you whispered, getting up off the floor, rubbing your eyes and yawning. But he didn’t respond, still pulling at his restraints, eyes thinned and focussed.

“Are you mad at me?” You whined with a frown, circling around his chair and playfully covering his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry. I’ll buy some cute lingerie, give you a little show… do you like lace? Or maybe leather?”

Jackson’s nostrils flared, growing irate and incredulous at your antics, and he snapped. “Do you really think you can keep me here? Make me play fucking house with you?” He shouted groggily, body still feeling the aftereffects of not one, but two, drugs.

You blinked numbly, hand finding his face, and you pressed his cheeks together, making him look up at you. “I won’t make you play house with me, Jackson. But it's the only thing you can do. You’re dead.”

Your tone had gone cold, using his real name instead of your pet-one, expression going blank and completely unfeeling at his words. Then, you fumbled for something on the wooden vanity beside you two before lifting it up to his face.

It read: TERRORIST GROUP LEADER’S REMAINS FOUND IN RED-EYE FLIGHT WRECK.

Jackson’s lips parted, feelings riddled half in shock and half in utter fury, gaze shaky as it flitted back and forth between you and the newspaper you were holding up. “I’m fucking—“

“Alive, I know. That’s kinda the point,” you finished his sentence with a chuckle, shaking your head like any of this was a joking matter. “When a plane goes down and catches fire, burning everybody, they won’t individually check who's who, honey. If there’s a name on the seat, there’s someone in it, and they’re dead… you’re as good as dead.”

Jackson’s eyebrows were still knit, but he suddenly stared straight ahead, listening to you silently and trying to make sure you were still too focussed on explaining theatrically to realize he was about to dislocate his thumb.

He could deal with the stool later — he just needed to get his arms free and escape. What with your grating voice and the fucking pronunciation of death you’d forced upon him, god, his fury was rising quickly, and he wanted nothing more right now than to fucking kill you.

You finished your explanation, peering deeply into his bright blue eyes, and you were about to wrap your arms around his neck and press him comfortingly to your chest when he successfully freed himself, and his hands shot out from behind him to strangle you.

His fingers curled around your neck extremely easily, tightening and contracting around the thing snugly. Jackson was seeing red, the anger accumulated from every little insane fucking thing you did to him bursting.

You struggled against him, your mouth opening and closing pitifully, leaning down into his grip— until your lips tilted upwards, a devilishly cheshire smile digging into your cheeks like it was an expression God never intended you to make.

Jackson only realized you’d taken his gun away from him when he felt the tip of the barrel kiss his temple, cold and clammy. He was still disoriented, and didn’t exactly comprehend all the facts ‘till they fucking punched him in the face. Or, in this case, threatened to shoot him point blank.

“L’mme - l’mme go, h’ney,” you whispered raspily, your eyes stuttering in their socket as he pressed deeper. Simultaneously, completely on instinct, you pressed the gun further into his skin.

“You’re too fucking weak to fire that gun,” he growled, digging his thumbs into the neat notch in the middle of your neck, his fingernails scratching bloody marks into your sensitive skin.

But you frowned weakly, and then Jackson heard that all familiar click, making him blanch. The strength in his hands didn’t falter, however— it got angrier, more desperate, like you wouldn’t automatically shoot him if he just translated his wrath into his grip.

“I d’nt- w’nna k-kill you,” you shook your head a bit, but both your threats remained the same: his hands making you go lightheaded, go blue, and the gun in yours making him sweat, the image of you splattering his brain against the wall clear as day.

Jackson felt your finger twitch, and he closed his eyes, grip going tense then faltering completely: if you shot him now, there was no point holding on. But you did the same— you thought he’d snap your neck right then and there, so you pulled away.

Just as quickly as you two had attacked one another, your resolves’ had crumbled, murderous intent clearing the room like someone had opened a window and let it all out. Silence filled it back up instead, a steady tension permeating with it, and it was fucking suffocating.

“What do you - want from me, exactly?” Jackson questioned first, several long moments later, words slow and collected. He’d try to calm himself and hide his anger away for later, because he now knew that you meant for him to meet only two ends here: forever with you, or forever dead— and neither were ends he was intending to have.

To escape, crawl under your nose and perhaps kill you along the way, he’d need to know the rules— play your little game. This cat and mouse mess could be done in a flash, and he fucking knew you had a weakness. He could feel it in your touch, how you gripped him, the lonely warble in your insane words.

Sure, you kidnapped him and were calling him honey, treating him like he was your plaything, but Jackson had always been good at reading people, even before he’d become an amalgamated mess of an assassin, terrorist and blackmailer: you needed someone in your life— be it a husband or a hostage.

You got down on one knee, looking up at him through your wet lashes, breathing still ragged. One of your hands took his own dislocated one, while the other fished through your silk dress pockets, pulling out a gold band ring identical to the one gleaming prettily on your left hand.

You didn’t answer his question saying for you to marry me or for you to love me— both things Jackson would expect you to say, especially with your oddly profound obsession with him (despite the fact he was positive you’d only known him for a few weeks at most.) No, you’d smiled, a lovely duchenne one, rosy-cheeked like a fucking schoolgirl confessing to her crush, not an assassin who’d kidnapped him, and said, “For you to be mine.”

Your hand curled around his dislocated thumb and quickly snapped it, cruel and rough but perfectly back in place, before you slipped the ring onto his finger shakily, and brought his hand up to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“You’re mine,” you repeated in a whisper, sounding every bit like a warning rather than a celebration.

ii.

After a few days of living with— or, more accurately, being held captive by you, Jackson thought he had you all figured out. It usually only took a few days for him and a target to become acquainted anyway; mutual acquaintance or not.

He found that the warmer he treated you, the more freedom he’d have. Like, after you slipped the ring on his finger, you undid the ropes tying his legs. A reward, you’d said, for accepting your… unity.

But you still switched out the clinky metal cuffs for zip ties. “I can’t have you doing that nifty little thumb trick anymore, can I?” you explained. “But I still want you to walk around. Take a tour of the rest of your life, honey.”

Then, you told him you had to go to work — to which Jackson rolled his eyes, considering assassination wasn’t exactly what he’d call work, though, he would also have to call himself a hypocrite — and left. Jackson wasn’t shy about roaming about the house, especially to look for a fucking escape, but he was firstly confronted with the sheer size of the place you’d locked him in.

Where he’d first waken up was the master bedroom, long and wide with a king poster bed and canopy, a pair of couples vanities side by side, two walk-in closets and one large ensuite. The rest of the house was the same, being two stories tall and terribly extensive: Jackson ran out of fingers on his hands to count how many rooms were in it.

By the time he’d combed through the entire house — discovering a measly two possible escape routes in the process — it was dark outside, and you entered through a front door Jackson couldn’t find for the fucking life of him.

It was appalling, firstly how spontaneous and carefree you were whilst simultaneously thinking of everything that could go wrong, and secondly, how up to par your skills were to his. He wasn’t one to gloat, but he knew just as well as his coworkers that he was a large step above the rest— and it seemed you were, too, the only equal he’d encountered in his line of work… and the only person who’d bested him.

“Honey, I’m home!” You sing-songed in the hallway, poking your head into each and every room for Jackson’s familiar form.

Jackson had settled back in the master bedroom, sitting on the very chair you’d untied him from that morning, and when you finally found him you cooed. “Aw, baby, you don’t hafta’ stay here all day.” You said, lifting his chin to look up at you.

Jackson grit his teeth, his temper suddenly getting the best of him, and he spat at you. But the effect didn't work nearly as well as intended: you didn’t even wince, merely blinking and bringing two fingers to your cheek and wiping the slick off. You pouted at him for a second, made your eyes real big and pitiful, before kissing him on the cheek… and shoving your spit-slicked fingers into his mouth, making him gag.

It looked like you were enjoying his suffering, before pulling away a moment later. “Well, no matter,” you said, brushing his actions off and regaining your happy mood. “I know you weren’t really here all day, honey.”

Jackson’s lips parted, eyes thinning suspiciously. “What the fuck are you—“

You suddenly pulled out your phone, showing camera angles from all throughout the house… and more startlingly, previous footage of him, scouring the house’s windows and poking through the various furniture and rooms earlier in the day. “You are quite the curious cat.”

“You have a camera?” He asked indignantly. Honestly, he should’ve expected it: it’s like, what do you get when you have a captive itching to escape and an obsessive, head-over-heels captor with plenty of money on her hands?

“Several,” you preened, “so don’t bother escaping.”

Then, you hooked your arm into his and dragged him to one of the (many, many) dining rooms.

“Now, I’ve never exactly had a hostage before,” you offered, pushing him into one of your cushy walnut dining chairs, “so I just realized you haven’t eaten. God, I’m so sorry, honey, you must be starving.”

With that, you ducked into the large kitchen a room away, and then returned holding a steaming plate of something, setting the dish down in front of him. “It’s not exactly, y’know, fine dining,” you said, picking up the spoon hidden in the food and scooping up some peas, “but it’s home-cooked. Not my home cooking, obviously, it is -- was, a target’s. I had a plate earlier, don’t worry, it’s good.”

Jackson stared at you, mind spinning with the information you were nonchalantly throwing at him: you were feeding him, your hand holding the cutlery, his mouth around it like he was fucking six, and the person who had made this food was dead, having had their throat slit or something.

But there was another thing in Jackson’s mind, a tiny, weak voice within him that told him to just shut the hell up and eat the damn food. His survival instinct, probably, but then it went on to think that you weren’t that bad, feeding him and keeping him safe from the police in this nice, grand house— and Jackson squished the voice. No fucking way in hell was he experiencing early stage stockholm syndrome.

At his reluctance, you frowned, and forced the spoonful in his mouth. “Eat,” you scolded, and fed him till the whole plate was finished.

He ate, of course, not because of the little bitch voice in his head, but because of the fact that he actually was really fucking hungry. The gesture seemed to warm your heart, for some fucked up reason, and you later sat in the livingroom with him and loosened his zipties.

There was a brief moment, however, that Jackson felt even an iota of fear: when his hands were slightly free, he immediately reached to grab you— he was taller, stronger, and could certainly defeat you in mere moments.

But your sneaky fingers tightened his restraints at the drop of a hat, your head butting his jaw so he fell back on the couch. “Try anything,” you warned, tone suddenly dark, “and I will break your fucking wrist.”

At his tentative, jaw slightly dropped, shaky nod, a cold sweat beaming down from his temple, you dissolved into a fit of laughter at his expression and undid his ties once more. This time, your hand held his in an intimate death grip, thumb curled sweetly around the wrist, that warning still ringing in his head.

He was learning how to play the game, though. His captor’s behavior. What you liked, what you didn’t. The extent of your mercy.

Jackson cleared his throat, searching for a question that might make you open up. “…What’s your name, anyway?” Yes, he didn’t even know your fucking name, and he doubted that the tacky prostitute name you’d given him initially was your real one.

You looked up at him, surprised he’d speak first, nonetheless to know more about you. So, you indulged, and told him your name, things you liked, didn’t like, your hobbies… all normal people stuff— y’know, first date stuff.

“I keep forgetting you don’t know a thing about me,” you confessed, leaning your head on his stiff figure, “‘cause I’ve known you for a very long time.”

Jackson’s breath hitched. “How so?” he said, trying not to give away his eagerness; he was going through all the steps he did when first meeting a target, like being kind and sweet, respectful and attentive, really buttering them up and coaxing information from them, before going in for the kill. In Jackson’s current case, the “kill” was a kiss.

It’d be something chaste, nervous, like he was unwittingly slipping into your trap and couldn’t help the warmth bubbling within him toward you, so you would fall into his; hook, line, and sinker… and maybe completely undo his zipties. He’d have to lay low for a few days, obviously, and build up that obsessive trust of yours, before going in for the literal kill.

But then again, Jackson, with that delirious little ego of his, kept forgetting your skills were up to par with his, and you were the first and only person to ever fucking best him.

You grinned thinly, knowing exact what he was doing, noticed the pattern his words went in, trying to shepherd the conversation to get the answers he wanted, and you pulled away from him. “I’ll tell you another day, honey. M’gonna go to bed,” you whispered sleepily, redoing his zipties. “Join me. I don’t like it when you tire yourself out.”

And so you left, and Jackson watched your hips sway, legs carrying you down the long hallway into the master bedroom. As soon as you were out of direct view, he sucked in a sharp breath, seething angrily.

Fuck, he thought, the realization of his predicament settling within in him at last. He’d always been told this: if you didn’t believe you could escape your situation within the first day, you would never escape at all. He thought it a silly mantra, because he’d always devised an escape plan after thinking on it for a few long moments.

Never did he think he’d find himself in a situation where that actually fucking applied, never did he think he’d meet his equal, and never in his entire, terrorizing existence, did he think he’d be helpless.

But Jackson had to persevere. Had to. He had not survived every terrible incident thrown at him in his tired lifetime, just to accept this. And so, he went to bed with you, the zipties rubbing his pale skin raw, and he watched the shadows on the roof shift with every hour that passed.

He did not sleep, certainly not with you by his side, and though it looked like it, you did not either. It was the paranoia of two terribly similar people; gaze dancing in the dark and never finding each others, waiting for the moment one of you snapped and you had to attack or defend.

The next day, and the next day after that, he went to bed beside you. Just like that, turned into weeks turned into months turned into seasons changing, and the zipties became cloth became your hand holding his.

It was a culmination of feigned loving, fake vulnerability, and pretending he’d gotten Stockholm syndrome that got him to this point. Every “honey, i’m home,” or kiss or hug or pet-name you stabbed into him, he returned with a “welcome home, honey”, a peck on the cheek, a hand holding yours, his venomous tone switched like a light into something sweet, soft.

One night, with his newly ziptie-free arms wrapping around you, your back nestling sweetly against his torso, he has to remind himself that it is not real. None of it was real: he was not your husband, you were not his wife, you did not love each other, you were not normal fucking people— you were the captive and the captor.

Jackson had to remind himself he didn’t actually love you, because that night he thought: if you used him, he would use you. He would take you whenever he wanted, like how you used him. A man has needs, he thought, and being trapped in this house with you meant those needs could be met.

It reminded him of when you first met— not the kidnapping part, of course, but of the kissing and the touching, your tits pressing softly against his chest, his hands following the swell of your ass.

With a start, he realized he’d had some kind of unintentional celibacy enacted upon him: he couldn’t fuck anyone other than you, obviously, having been trapped in that house, but he never entertained the idea of fucking you because he hated you. You don’t fuck the bitch you’re planning to kill any day now.

But your warm body against his awoke something in him, his forced celibacy unable to survive against the pure lust he felt filling him now. You were beautiful, undeniably, with pliant thighs and delicate curves he could see himself getting between animalistically, roughly, a kind of morbid sexual revenge against your captivity of him. It helped entirely that this was the most vulnerable he’d seen you, completely without any weapons, curled warmly into his side.

After studying your breathing for a few seconds, ensuring you were still asleep, Jackson carefully slipped away from you to kneel in front of you in the middle of the bed. He admired your night getup: those silk dresses you adored to wear at home, and absolutely no underwear.

He then pried your soft thighs open slightly, dipping his head between them and losing himself in the sweet scent of your cunt, before chancing a stripe up to your clit. He flattened his tongue, wanting to collect your taste on it completely, and you merely sighed, turning over slightly and widening your legs in your sleep, like you somehow knew what he was doing and wanted it.

He pressed his mouth up to your cunt fully now, his nose hitting your mound as he devoured you, tongue filling every crevice and fold you had like he was starving. Your small whimpers and breathy sighs grew louder now, more frequent, and then Jackson suddenly pulled away, satisfied with how he readied your hole.

Jackson shimmed himself out of his boxer shorts, a pair with silly little hearts he’d never seriously buy for himself— you bought them, as soon as you’d captured him, clearly having fun with the utter control you could display on him, down to his fucking undergarments.

He shook himself slightly, refocussing on the matter at hand: fucking into your glistening cunt. There was something oddly empowering about doing this to you when you couldn’t protest, regaining some control over his own fucking life by terrorizing yours.

But he wasn’t sure you’d fucking care anyway: he knew you liked to peek around the corner when he was showering, “accidentally” walking in when he was in the middle of changing, not-so subtly bending down and pressing your ass to his crotch.

He sighed slightly, rubbing his hand up and down on his hard length in the dark, before lining it up with your entrance. Jackson muffled the groan that curdled in his throat with his large hand, breathing shakily and finally pushing past your slick folds. You were soaking, and he didn’t know if it was because of his previous foreplay or if you were just naturally like this, all horny because he slept beside you at night. He wouldn’t put it past you if that was the case: your obsession with him was clear in every single way.

You made a noise in your sleep, and Jackson froze, hands instinctively coming up to press lightly against your throat — an unconscious thing on his part, formed when his hands had been zip tied and the only thing he could do was choke you, unable to grip any weapon properly. But you didn’t wake up; your face merely screwed together, before smoothing out and returning to blissful unconsciousness.

Jackson let out a sigh of pleasure and relief, your walls clenching around his pulsing cock. He gripped the sheets beside your head and began thrusting in and out of you: at first gently, afraid to wake you up, but as the minutes dripped past, Jackson grew desperate, fucking into your cunt roughly. He wanted to abuse your tight little pussy, stretch you wide open and take you for everything you had.

“Fuck,” he grunted under his breath, snapping his hips harder against yours, “Fuck!”

His exclamation of sexual satisfaction startled you awake, but he didn’t notice how your eyes moved behind your eyelids, too focussed on pounding his rock-hard cock into you. For all the insanity and behavioral issues God gave you, he certainly made up for it in the way he crafted your cunt: extremely warm and easily wet, a sticky hole that sucked him in but was still cramped, like it was begging him to force your walls open.

“Honey?” you murmured foggily, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were about to speak again, when Jackson suddenly found your g-spot, and rammed continually into it, making a filthy mewl leave your lips.

“Fuck, you woke up?” Jackson cursed, looking at you for the first time. His thrusts were unrelenting, though, now not caring if you’d woken up and just wanting to feel your hole squeeze around him again.

“Jackson, I was - sleeping,” you squeaked out, hands moving to his back and digging your nails into the skin.

“That’s kinda the point,” Jackson mocked, tone sarcastic and peeved like you were interrupting him. “And don’t fucking fight it,” he warned angrily, hand leaving the mattress and roughly squeezing one of your tits through the fabric of your nightdress, “‘cause I’m not stopping ‘till I come.”

You pouted fake-sadly at his words, but your back arching gave you away, keening when he kneaded your tit too meanly and made a shock of pain run up your body. “Feels so good,” you grinned sweatily, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he sighed, throwing his head back, “didn’t fucking ask what you thought.”

He pushed your face to the side so he was looking at your jaw, more content with treating you like just some hole, but you didn’t care: he, your darling, was fucking you. He wanted you so bad he fucked you when you weren’t even awake. God, you could’ve kissed him right then and there, but he probably would’ve hit you. (Not that you would mind… but you wanted your honey to take control, have it his way for a bit.)

Jackson rutted into you fast and selfish, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the violent way he fucked you: your sick pleasure came at the expense of your weeping cunt, which was trembling in the stinging pain he was inflicting, cockhead stretching you wide.

Then, Jackson’s hands slid down to your hips, so he could shove his cock deeper into your cunt, pressing his weight so heavily onto your chest you could barely breathe. He groaned; you were clearly affected by the action, bearing down on his cock suddenly, and he reveled in the ecstacy.

He fucked you slightly and slower, and you only realized what he’d been doing when he leaned down to get a better angle, bullying the head of his cock against your cervix: he was trying to fuck into you further, push his dick so close, so snug against your womb that there was no doubt in hell his load would impregnate you. His actions were dictated not by any sense of reason, but by a crude, carnal desire, wanting nothing more but to make you scream.

And you did scream alright, a breathy, brutal scream; a mix of whimpering pain at the way his head pushed against you, and of shameful, drooling pleasure, his delicious length making you feel fucking bloated, you were so full.

One of Jackson’s hands reached up to your head to pull your hair, making you whine at the pain of the tug, and he growled out a string of curse words, before thrusting his cock so angrily it was like a punishment, surely bruising your cervix, and releasing his thick load deep inside. His come flooded your cunt, pumping you full of his salty cream, fucking you still.

Jackson then panted raggedly, feeling your gummy walls tense at the pain of him pulling out, flopping down beside you. “Does it hurt?” he asked you absently, pulling his boxer shorts back up to his hips.

You bit your lip as you clenched your thighs together, whining slightly at the pain blooming deep within your abused cunt, and at the loss of pleasure— you hadn’t come after all, Jackson being entirely selfish in his fucking. “Uh-huh,” you murmured weakly, feeling the strength in your body leave you completely. “You’re a mean one, honey.”

“Good,” Jackson said, chuckling darkly. It was the first laugh you’d heard rumble out of him the entire time you’d held him captive, and you drank it in: it was pleasant and breezy, like cold water on a hot day. It was certainly out of place, such a gleeful laugh after savagely fucking you, but you welcomed it anyway.

Jackson suddenly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush to his chest. “M’gonna use your hole whenever I want, and you’re gonna take my cock no matter what, ‘till you’re begging me to stop,” he growled in your ear, making goosebumps break out on your clammy skin. “Least you can do for fuckin’ kidnapping me, you psychotic bitch.”

“Oh,” you purred, batting your lashes up at him, “it’d be my pleasure to be your fucktoy.”

Jackson grinned, at you, for you, and you thought to yourself that kidnapping him was the best thing you ever fucking did.

iii.

Somewhere, muddled between you kidnapping him, the two of you almost killing eachother, and him fucking you dumb, Jackson caved, and he started to believe he actually loved you. His mind didn’t have any qualms accepting that you were his new life— living in your house, only knowing you, and only ever talking to you.

Maybe it was stockholm syndrome, or those delicious fantasies you’d whisper in his ear at night (“Y’know, honey, it’s really you who should be saying you’re home. What do you think, huh? You coming home from a long day of work to me, in my panties and an apron, no bra and a sweet, home-cooked meal on the table. Dessert’ll be, of course, me,”) or maybe it was just you.

You, despite your terrible job and seriously obvious insanity, being the epitome of fuckable: horny when he was, a talented, needy mouth, able to take anything he gave you to while always going back to being tight as fuck, and intensely eager to have him.

You, who controlled his life, and he, who controlled you. The way you treated each other was probably illegal somewhere, but in that house not even the fucking law mattered. (You still remember when Jackson got his gun back, and he teased your clit with the cold tip till you creamed down the barrel… a terribly memorable story that always made you groan.)

Jackson was extremely well aware that there was something strange about your relationship, and not just the fact it occurred in the strangest way possible, but that he was essentially giving up to you— losing his inhibitions, at least against you. Something about… putting his well being in your hands. His needs. His wants. His life. Spending the rest of his life with you; in this house, accepting life and no escape.

But still, for a man like Jackson, who had long since accepted that he wasn’t cut out for a life of normalcy, a life of love, this certainly wasn’t a bad way of living. He had a house nicer than anything he’d ever lived in, didn’t have to work, could do whatever he wanted all day, and got to pound his cock into your perfect little pussy every single night.

#wowee this has a lot of words and a lot of warnings #this is filthy i apologize #cillian murphy smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner x reader smut #red eye #jackson rippner

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enhaeven · 2 months

Text

look closely | psh (m.)

pairing: sunghoon x reader

genre: smut, angst?, gala!au, idk what they are

word count & rating: 4k | 18+ (minors gtfo)

summary: you've been spending a lot of time with Sunghoon lately so he's not entirely pleased when you showed up with a date after turning down his offer.

warnings/content: jealousy • dirty talk • nipple/breast play, kinda mirror sex? • rough oral sex? (fellatio/deepthroating) • voyeurism? • hair pulling • pain kink lmao, semi-public sex again 😭, phones are being used of course ;)

a/n: ik it was supposed to be hockey!hoon from the poll but this mf posted and i was seeing things smh.

to say Sunghoon was confused is an understatement.

especially when you entered the doors arm in arm with none other than his best friend.

jake? when did this happen?

a series of questions start occupying Sunghoon's mind. at first, he didn't mind you rejecting him when he asked you to be his Valentine's date. maybe it was too much for you, that going to the gala with him might give your schoolmates the wrong idea.

and as always, Sunghoon took it like a man though it did confuse him cause he thought you both were on the same page. he was planning to ask you out if you had said yes but it's probably too early for it.

for you both to be official.

you've been spending a lot of time together since the beginning of the second semester. going on dates, studying together, and fucking each other's brains out for stress relief so Sunghoon thought there was something there but now he thinks that he read everything wrongly.

he's fully aware that you don’t owe him anything but he couldn't help himself feeling a little dumbfounded going alone to this event that your department's hosting. he thought that you'd be alone too but as he watches you and Jake wandering around to find your assigned table, he's lowkey regretting not asking other girls to keep him company instead.

you immediately felt Sunghoon's stare as soon as you entered the doors with Jake. rejecting him wasn’t really your intention because you'll gladly be his date for this event. it’s just that everything's becoming too real and confusing when he never even asked you to be his in the first place.

that's why you've been taking your distance.

it was just a simple date for a gala though so it shouldn't have mattered to you nor mean much to Sunghoon. he’d probably have a substitute date after you declined that’s why you said yes to Jake when he asked so you won’t look like a fool just in case you see Sunghoon there with someone else.

you don’t know if Jake knew that his best friend asked you first. with how close they are, surely it should be given that he’ll be aware but the surprise on Sunghoon’s face tells you otherwise.

now you’re utterly fucked.

this could appear as a low blow to Sunghoon since Jake’s his best friend. you should've considered this possibility when you agreed to be Jake's date but it somehow slipped your mind for whatever reason. it must be the desperation in you, considering him as a blessing in disguise when he asked you pretty last minute because you were already debating on not going.

seeing Sunghoon with a date would only ruin your night even if it's your fault. so you really thank the stars that Jake decided to ask you since you're already familiar with each other. besides, he’s a very sweet guy who’s become dear to you after sharing a class with him last semester so why not?

you’ve already acknowledged your stupidity in decision making anyway so might as well go through with it.

to ease up your nerves, you try conversing with Jake as soon as you both sit down, avoiding the pull to look at Sunghoon's way who's standing by the counter. you can see his figure from your peripheral view, wondering why he's still there when everyone is settling in their seats since the program's about to start.

could he be avoiding you and Jake? or is it the many girls crowding him? still taking chances if he'd entertain them since he didn't bring a date.

you’re sure they hounded him as soon as he arrived by himself but he could be waiting for you. to see if you were alone as well based on how he reacted earlier so now the guilt has been eating you up more quickly than you anticipated.

Sunghoon should've picked any of those girls to sit by him as he approached your table. watching you flirt with Jake was harder for him than he initially thought.

it riles Sunghoon up that you're being so sweet with Jake, even putting your hands on his chest whether it’s intentionally or not. he couldn’t even blame his best friend cause Jake's natural charm can woo anyone who comes across him.

"hoon, man, where's your date?" his friend turns to him as he’s sitting down on the chair while Sunghoon's gaze remains on you.

"nah i don't need one," he says dismissively, quickly switching his gaze to Jake with an amused smile cause he finds it adorable that you're avoiding his eyes.

he also finds it funny how Jake seems to be clueless about this underlying tension between you two, just like how Sunghoon is with this game you're playing.

he’s sure that he’s been so obvious but he also knows how dense his best friend could be. honestly, Sunghoon doesn’t really care either way if Jake knows whatever's going on or not. what he wants is to understand you because he couldn’t remember doing something that would have pushed you to go for his best friend instead of him.

if Sunghoon had asked anyone, they’d just tell him to move on since you basically gave your answer but he’s a driven man. plus, the way you're acting around him says enough so he smiles wickedly at himself.

this night should be fun.

if you really don’t give a fuck about him anymore then you would've acted differently so he'll just let you play around with Jake for now.

the program's halfway done when you feel someone's leg nudging yours below the table. without a doubt, it’s Sunghoon’s but you're still refusing to look at him. it'll frustrate him for sure but he surprises you when he casually joins your conversation with Jake. hopefully, your date won't notice that you've been avoiding his best friend.

everything was smooth since Sunghoon was doing the same as you, engaging in normal conversations with the others at your table despite his quiet personality. except, for the nonstop heated gazes he throws your way while his long ass legs nudge yours from time to time, provoking you.

you see, ignorance is usually your forte but not when it comes to Sunghoon and he knows that. it's like he must've sensed that you're about to kick his leg away cause he suddenly gets up, excusing himself to go to the washroom.

you end up hitting the chair instead, causing you to wince lightly and grabbing Jake's attention. his best friend, on the other hand, didn’t care about it nor your glare towards his retreating figure. so instead you turn to a very worried Jake and smile reassuringly at him.

"are you sure? you can just sit down and i'll get the food for you later"

"i am jakey, don't worry" you reach out to hold his shoulder and he calms down, relief now in his eyes as you smile at him. he returns it with an even brighter smile and just then realizes how gorgeous he actually is.

but so is Sunghoon, who by the way, hasn’t come back yet.

you backtracked cause why was he still lingering in your mind. worrying about him was even worse and it's making you restless no matter how much you shrug them away by talking more to Jake.

when dinner starts, your date rises from his seat to line up for food. he offered once again but you declined, leading for his worry to return. still needing a lot of convincing, you stand up and twirl to show Jake that you’re fine.

"see? totally okay! i'll be back okay?" you nod at him as you walk away, eyes immediately looking for Sunghoon who's nowhere to be found. you ponder his whereabouts cause he could be fucking someone right now like he used to in events like these.

the scenario your mind came up with made you uneasy. no denying on your part that seeing Sunghoon earlier with a bunch of girls made your stomach churn. you might totally lose your appetite if you somehow found him in that compromising situation. yes, it's essentially your fault because none of these feelings would be here had you said yes to him.

navigating around the empty halls was fortunately easy despite the intricate design of the place. the whole venue screamed classy and elegant so it took you a bit of time to find the large fancy washroom located on the upper floor because you were fawning over the interiors.

it's where you suspect Sunghoon would be instead of the ones downstairs that are usually packed with people. he's the type to find places where no one usually goes, preferring peace amid any form of ruckus.

and you were right, instantly spotting him leaning by the edge of the black marble counter with one hand in his pockets.

"took you long enough" he scoffs, looking up to you from his phone. he looks annoyed as he places it beside him but he proceeds to do you a one over that definitely didn't make you wet now that you're also taking his whole fit at once.

all formal in black with that signature hair of his that you really love.

"well thanks to you" you reply drily, recovering from that small relapse with your annoyance bubbling back to the surface. he must’ve thought it’s directed to him when you’re actually mad at yourself but you’ll let him think that way.

it's fun and this is how you usually talk anyway, bickering and teasing which you surely missed when things got awkward between you since that day.

"me? you're the one who's all over Jake" he huffs, shooting you a glare that you found amusing. he does look cute whenever he’s sulking, especially when he gets jealous although he masks it with indifference each time you call him out on it.

"he's my date hoon" you deadpan, stating the obvious which irks Sunghoon even more but he notices the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“why are you with him?” he starts, trying to sound nonchalant as he leans back. it might be hopeless and he shouldn't care this much but Sunghoon just wants to know the very reason he's alone in this gala.

“why can’t i be with jake?”

he was gonna tell you why if his ears didn't catch the teasing lilt in your tone the more you step closer to him. “isn’t he your best friend hoonie?” you add when he didn't answer, noticing his thick brows scrunching as he adjusts his gold bangle bracelets.

so you are doing it on purpose, staring him down right now with those beautiful eyes and playful smile like you didn’t break his heart weeks ago. he may acted like he was expecting you earlier but you pretty much didn’t care so he's still unsure why you followed him here when Jake's probably out there waiting for you.

maybe Sunghoon was wrong. well, he had been clearly assuming a lot of things so who knows. this could just be his inner desire hoping that you still want him.

“he is, but it doesn’t mean that i’ll share you with him” you're startled when Sunghoon grabs your waist as soon as his arms can reach you. he pulls you closer to him before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

one of your hands grasps his hair as a reflex, the other gripping his shoulders as you try to come up with a response. it's a bit hard when you can feel his breath fanning against your skin but he holds you for a bit, waiting for you to stop him.

when you didn’t, his lips touched your skin and began leaving kisses around your exposed collarbones. and since Sunghoon's been very familiar with your sensitive spots, he finds your weakest spot in the neck right away, coaxing a needy whimper from you.

“i-i’m not yours hoon” you're struggling to reply when you feel Sunghoon's smile but you love how eager he's been. aside from missing him in general, you’re deprived of his touch too since the last time you were in this position was the day you turned him down.

"no? but this one’s mine right?” both his hands move down and grab a handful of your ass, earning a surprise gasp from you. they're pretty quick too that you didn't even realize Sunghoon's pulled down your dress' plunging neckline, freeing your tits right in front of his face.

he eyes them hungrily as a hand of his stays on holding the hem, embarrassment flooding you as a result though he’s seen your bare body several times already.

in all honesty, Sunghoon would’ve found your flower shaped pasties adorable if the circumstances were different. he teases you nonstop about them cause he secretly loves it when you wear them instead of bras, easy access each time he touches you.

despite how much he missed you, he's still pissed so he peels them off a bit harshly, eager to taste your perked nipples but he finds it absurd that you're shying away from him.

the audacity of you to come here then.

instead of putting your pasties aside, he keeps them in his pockets and you’re about to protest when his large hands are on your bare tits at once, fondling them briefly before he latches his mouth on one of them.

"h-hoon—" a loud moan slips from your lips when his tongue starts flickering your nipple, leading you to grab his hair again and push his face further on your chest.

he occasionally bites a nipple as his palm gropes your breast, rendering you speechless at how it feels. you keep arching your back so Sunghoon's other hand returns to gripping your hips steadily.

looking down, you see Sunghoon's playfully making suctions while sucking your tits. it's his way of teasing you as he alternates on sucking both your breasts with his eyes closed, allowing your eyes to fixate on the mole in his nose that you adore.

with your breathing getting heavier every minute, suppressing your giggles has also been difficult each time his hair brushes your skin.

"hoon please.." you didn't plan on begging him but he's just too good at finding what makes you weak. watching his wet tongue and sharp canines graze your nubs didn't help either, heightening the sensation throughout your body so you couldn't help it.

but Sunghoon's a tease so you should've expected him to release your nipples with a pop after hearing your plea. with a taunting grin.

"now you're begging" he snickers, knowing exactly what you want from him. you pay no mind to it, brain’s all muddled currently at watching him lick his lower lips, eyes zeroing in on his saliva disconnecting from your buds.

you turn mute at that, not knowing how to respond to Sunghoon. the usual witty response to counter him’s nowhere to be found. all you can think of is finding ways to return to his good graces so you relent.

“yeah i am” you say quietly which surprises Sunghoon. you’re never the type to beg so he presumes that it's because you’re probably feeling guilty.

that’s why you’re here.

not really to see him but just to make him feel better.

it must be it so he proceeds to stare you down, contemplating if he’ll give you what you want. of course, Sunghoon would want to but he couldn’t possibly let you get away with this stunt you’re pulling tonight.

your exposed wet stricken breasts cause you to shiver while doing your best to maintain Sunghoon's gaze. he's making you wait too long so you softly squeeze his padded shoulders for an answer, watching his face morph back into being smug.

but before Sunghoon can even respond, you drop to your knees and look up at him with pleading eyes. he curses in his head trying to not give in right there. he's gotta keep his hardened exterior cause it's not often you’re this desperate hence why it’s one of his favourites.

“want my dick?” he teases, the familiar sly grin now plastered on his lips. you nuzzle against his clothed thigh as an answer and Sunghoon couldn’t help himself to reach out and caress your cheek.

he sees your hand reaching out and he takes it, allowing you to feel him over. then your hand fumbles to unbutton Sunghoon’s suit blazer, revealing his lean body that compliments his muscled arms.

he's fucking hot with this alone, given your kneeling position and you can't wait to finally make up to him now that he's letting you.

you're still a bit sus though that Sunghoon's making everything so easy.

he must've had other plans so you quickly pull down his pants and boxers, to have his cock in your mouth. you didn't get to though, his ringed fingers threading right through your scalp to stop you. a surprise whine and frustrating sigh escapes you but Sunghoon's enjoying seeing you like this.

“hoonie..” you coo, trying to look more deflated so he’ll release you. your earlier hunch was right and now little whore in you is excited to have his punishments again.

you eye his cock, so angry already with the precum coated tip that you’d do anything to taste it again but Sunghoon’s firm grip on your hair reminded you of what you did.

a pout graces your lips, surely he already knows what you’ve been missing. it’s been about a week or two since the last time you fooled around with Sunghoon, the same day you rejected him.

he stares at you intently without saying a word, seemingly unimpressed with your current way of begging. you're getting conscious again, mind scrambling on what else to do to convince him but you can't think of any.

but there's one thing you both have in common, impatience. you see it in the way he grabs his dick to tease your lips with it, running the tip across the edge of your lips. your tongue darts out in hopes of catching it but he suddenly slaps it against your cheek, causing you to pathetically whine against his clothed thigh.

“suddenly this desperate? then why’d you say yes to him?”

“i…”

you ran out of excuses just because you didn’t want to tell Sunghoon the truth. you’re not sure if he’s aware or which part of the truth he knows. if he does then it wouldn’t be a surprise. he can read you like an open book that’s why avoiding him earlier ended up being pointless.

it’s also why Sunghoon releases his grip on your hair a bit, allowing you to take his cock in your mouth. he misses the warmth your mouth is around him, the eager look in your eyes as you keep bobbing your head to please him.

well, it’s not enough. even for you, cause now he sees that familiar glint in your eyes when you want something more.

his hand didn’t leave your hair the entire time and excitement rush through you as soon as you watch him shift his stance, believing he’ll start fucking your throat.

but Sunghoon doesn't, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

instead, he pushed your head further down his cock, causing you to gag with the sudden movement. good thing you have amazing reflexes, hollowing your cheeks and breathing through your nose as you try to maintain eye contact.

you’re struggling when Sunghoon bunches up your hair and gives it a hard pull.

"did you really think i'd give you what you want?" he taunts, chuckling darkly as you moan around his length, the vibrations turning his laugh into a deep groan.

he would've let you with those begging eyes. he loves the desperation in them, making it one of his weaknesses. there's nothing he wants more than to fuck your throat but he can't give in that easy.

your head game's unmatched and it almost made him forget why you're here until he sees you slow your pace, intentionally taking him deeper until his tip nudges the back of your throat.

his hand returns pulling your hair, to the side this time as he picks up the phone beside him. it stings but you don't mind, letting Sunghoon control the pace of your sucking however he wants.

"so cock hungry, aren't you?" he grits his teeth, followed by a deep grunt.

he's being mean but you don't mind, nodding while your sole focus is running your tongue through the underside of his dick. to hear more of his deep grunts, now that he's mindlessly moving his hips slowly.

already anticipating it, you close your eyes to avoid the flash from Sunghoon's phone. if it'll make him forgive you then so be it.

you're not too concerned right now other than to make sure he finishes in your mouth. it boosts your ego, how you must've been doing so good for him to record you like this.

which suddenly ceased as soon as he releases your hair, his cock slipping out your drooling mouth.

"hoon?" you query, voice a bit confused as to why he's stopping you when you sense that he's close.

"get up" he spits and you obey, a bit disappointed when you see him putting his very hard length back in his pants.

before you can protest, Sunghoon flips you around and pulls you against him. now you're both facing the other mirror in front of you while you're on his lap.

you watch Sunghoon resumes what he was doing before you begged to suck him off. he's kissing your shoulders and upper back this time, ringed hands fondling your tits again and it's increasing your desperation. you can feel how hard he is under you so you start grinding on him out of frustration, hoping he'll finally fuck you.

"w-what do you want hoonie hmm? if you d-don't wanna fuck here then.." you gasp, stammering each word as his groping becomes rougher. "we can go back to dinner then leave after..oh fuck.." you throw your head back when pinches your sensitive nipples, grabbing a handful of his hair behind you.

"pretty sure it's over by now.." he drawls after suddenly releasing you, feeling his breath against your skin as his hands move down to guide your hips. you've been watching him through the mirror this time, looking unfazed while ignoring your words.

"but you still want dessert, right jake?" he adds, shifting his eyes to someone in the corner.

realization washed over you even before following Sunghoon's eyes after hearing the name. there in the corner of the room, you see Jake standing and clutching his phone in one hand while holding the door with widened eyes.

"i was wondering where you are.." his voice echoes, eyes trained on both you and his best friend. you have no idea how long Jake's been standing there, if he saw the whole thing or what. you were too busy focusing on anything else aside from his best friend.

and if he meant you or Sunghoon he didn't specify.

you both should've stopped but his best friend has no intention of, continuing to play with you as if Jake's not there. this tells you exactly how Jake found you both. the way he wasn't entirely surprised at what welcomed him, eyes raking your half-naked form which causes you to squirm against Sunghoon's lap.

Jake looks a bit nervous but there's a slight eagerness swimming in his eyes. you wonder if this is the first time Sunghoon did this, sending him lewd videos or pictures which you honestly find kinda hot. you keep grinding against Sunghoon's cock while watching Jake's gaze fixed on your tits which Sunghoon continues to fondle, earning more needy whines from you.

"figured that he's looking for us.." Sunghoon says wryly as he stops your hips from moving, his unbothered face turning to his best friend like this is just a common scenario between them. you watch Jake gulp nervously, slowly sinking in the implication of Sunghoon's words.

you heard it clearly, his tone alone suggesting that this night's far from over.

not until he's satisfied with your apology now that you have an audience.

e/n: now let's ignore that this was supposed to be for Valentine's but i ain't gonna wait for next year to post this to be on the right season 😭

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mrssabinecallas · 9 months

Text

Self Love Day

Pairing: Miguel O’hara / wife!reader

in which your husband is confused by your “self love” evenings, but doesn’t hesitate to join in on the festivities

CW! flufffff, mentions of alcohol (wine LMAO), lowercase intended, miguel being a bimbo husband and just loving you 🥹

gif creds to owner mentioned here ^^

ever since you were a teenager, you’ve always had a dedicated “self love” day, where you just take a day to yourself and unwind from all the stress in your life. they usually were a couple months apart as you never had time anymore, being co-leader of a multi-dimensional society of mutant spider people.

even as you were dating, your husband miguel never understood the importance of these nights in, and just left you in peace. it was none of his business, so he left it alone. but when you got married and lived together? boy was he in for a treat.

it had been a particularly rough week in nueva york, and it had been a while since you took a night for yourself, so you though, you know what? i deserve a break. as you poured yourself a nice glass of expensive wine, a gift from your cousin from your wedding two months ago, you exhaled a breath of relief to a nice quiet apartment.

as miguel entered the calm atmosphere, he sought out for you, calling out your name in the empty home. he saw the wine bottle on the counter, next to your favorite candle, lit. he slipped into your shared bedroom, the smell of your candles growing stronger. as he pushed open the door to your on suite, he saw your figure, back turned, getting things out of the bathroom cabinet.

“hola, amor,” he spoke into the warm silence. he was captivated by you as you turned around, sheer love in his eyes.

“hi, baby!” he noticed you had some skincare items in your hands, and your makeup was removed. he loved when you didn’t wear makeup. you looked so beautiful, he could just stare at your face for hours. “it’s self love day, you wanna join me?”

“sure, cariño, give me a minute, i’m going to put on something more comfortable,” he gestured to his suit, dirtied from a long day’s work. you nodded at him, and returned your attention to the cabinet, getting two of each now that your husband was joining.

returning to the bathroom, miguel was adorned in a tee shirt and grey sweats (to your liking). you handed him a fluffy makeup headband and he stared at you like you had three heads.

“¿qué demonios es esto?(what the hell is this?)” he questioned, taking note of the softness of the material and the light baby-blue color.

“a headband? to hold back your hair?” you weren’t sure why he was confused, but you would consider it a win if you could get him to wear it. shrugging his broad shoulders, he pulled it over his head, and tried to put all his hair behind it with his hands.

“no, no… hun.. that’s the hard way to put it on..” you tried to explain, but gave up and just walked over to him. reaching up, you pulled the headband down his head to rest on his collarbone, and then pulled it back up. “there.”

he looked over to the mirror, making a face when he saw the small bunny ears peeking over the top of his head, and looked at you with a ‘seriously?’ expression. you giggled at him, and turned to run the bath.

as you stripped of your clothes to get in the back, miguel made a different face at you, and looked you up and down. you shook your head at him with a teasing smile.

he frowned at you, before taking off his clothes and stepping into the bath with you. as the hot water lapped at the exposed skin of your legs, the familiar smell of your essential oils you had put in the bath wafts up to your nose. you sink back into miguel’s large figure as he sits down, releasing a content sigh.

you stayed there, laying against one another for another half hour, your husband caressing your waist under the water. the smells we’re wearing off, and the water started to cool, and it was time for the next phase of self love day. stepping out of the bath and drying off, you and miguel both put on a bathrobe.

pulling back your own hair into a headband, you pulled the back into a clip and opened a face mask for both of you. as you pulled the cold paper mask out of its foil and lifted it to your husbands face, he bent down so you could apply it for him. he cringed at the cold feeling of the moisturizer, but relaxed as you massaged the muscles in his face. you then pulled the other face mask out of the package and smoothed it onto your own skin.

grabbing your wine glass and your husband by the hand, you led him into the kitchen to pour him a drink. you got another glass out of the cabinet and poured two servings of wine, handing the second glass to miguel. he thanked you and swirled the class, then took a small sip.

you tread back into your shared bedroom, adjusting the slippery mask on your face.

“do you want to help me with my nails?” you asked over your shoulder to miguel, who nodded slightly and moved closer toward you.

“what are we doing to them today, mrs. o’hara?” he asked with a smirk on his face, in a mocking tone. “do you have an appointment? you know i’m booked full…” you rolled your eyes at his antics and lightly smacked his arm, walking into the bathroom to grab the polish.

returning to the bedroom, you held two colors in each of your hands.

“red or white?” you inquired to your husband, who began to study each color intently. it was cute, how he cared about the smallest little things.

“red,” he said, with a small confident smile on his face. you smiles back at him, returning to the bathroom to set the white on the counter.

as you filed your nails down, miguel began to take your hand and applied the polish. he grumbled as he got some on your finger, and wiped it away before setting down the brush and your hand to retrieve his glasses. (old man 🥹)

he re-entered the on-suite, small metal glasses situated on the bridge of his nose, and started to paint your nails again. he was making his “focused face,” you liked to call it, where his eyebrows scrunched together and his lips drew into a puckered state. it brought a small smile to your face as you, unknown to miguel, admired his features.

he dropped your right hand, and signaled for you to hand him your left, however you didn’t catch on.

“ahem..” he cleared his throat and cocked his eyebrow, waving for your hand to be place into his. “i am very busy ma’am, do not waste my time.” you scoffed at his antics, and placed your smaller hand into his much larger one.

“how many clients are you seeing today, ‘best nail artist in the multiverse?’” you played along with his little game, making him smile and reply, “too many, dear. now, let me in on all the juicy gossip. what’s goin’ on?”

“oh you don’t even want to know! turns out amanda has been sleeping with her ex again, after me and charlotte told her not to! now she’s upset about him cheating again when they’re not even really together anymore!” you put on your fake gossip voice and make up a story for your “nail stylist.” he nods along and gasps at your fake drama, totally invested in the story.

“no way! did he cheat on her with the same girl or some new hussy he picked up?” he fed into your story as he finished your left hand, blowing gently on your nails to speed up the drying process.

“yes! i don’t know how she didn’t learn. i mean come on! he’s a terrible person! a literal walking red flag!” you laughed at his “hussy” comment and his fake girl voice. as your nails finished, miguel twisted the brush top back into the polish bottle and placed it on the countertop.

you both just smiled at each other, happy to be in each others presence. how did you get so lucky with a guy who cared so much about the small things? i mean, cmon! he just pretended to gossip with you while he did your nails!

you reached up to your face, and gently rolled off the paper mask that had begun to dry on your face, miguel following suit. you threw them in the small trash bin beside the toilet and returned to take a sip of wine.

suddenly, as your set your glass back down with a small clink, miguel pulled you in for a light kiss to your lips. he pulled away smiling, and held you close to his chest.

“te quiero mucho, mi amor.”

“gracias para este, mi vida. te amo.”

A/N: thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed please show this some love, and my inbox is open if you have any ideas you want to send my way!

have a good day/night and stay hydrated! much love!

#x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man 2099 #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x y/n #miguel x you

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seraphmeraph · 6 months

Note

hi!! i recently found ur account while scrounging thru the bi han tag (theres so little bi han x reader fics 😭) and i love ur writing so i was wondering if you could do a bi han x princess reader? maybe the lin kuei made some kind of alliance with a king and he falls jn love (or lust) with his daughter? idk if that makes a lot of sense lolll. anyways thank u and i love ur work!!

i gen never expected people to really like Bi Han that much

Bi Han x Princess Reader

MK1 short story with smut at the end starring guess who?? BI HAN <3

TW: 18+, smut at end, fingering, praises, suggestive, boobs, Bi Hans not as degrading, forbidden love

A/N: mb for this shittiness anon i tried LMAO- I feel like by now everybody should know i dead just don't proofread

Your father, the kind, wanted to strengthen his kingdom's defenses. So, to achieve this, he proposed an alliance with the enigmatic Lin Kuei.

You first met Bi Han at a banquet to congratulate your alliance. Your father introduced him to you as the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. You couldn't help but feel attracted to his cold and rough attitude, not to mention how handsome he was.

Bi Han's heart fluttered when he saw you, but he tried to push it deep away, feeling unfamiliar with this feeling. But as time passed, he couldn't help but try to be closer to you. He wanted to hear your rambles and see your beautiful eyes and elegance.

He would purposefully run into you, planning and taking notes on locations you would stop by. One of these is the royal garden, where you'd take a walk every day. Slowly, you noticed how often you would see the Grandmaster. You found it unusual, but you didn't mind his presence.

Slowly, it went from seeing each other to striking up conversations with him. He would often give you advice for your duties as a princess.

As you two grew closer, you would often find yourself openly complimenting him and subtly flirting.

"I'm aware you're a cryomancer, but does your heart ever get cold? Maybe my presence can warm it," You spoke, gaining a little smile from him. It was the first time you had ever seen him smile, and it made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

Considering he's unfamiliar, you are likely the first to admit your feelings. You asked him to meet you in the royal garden at night, and when he showed up, you began confessing.

The garden was very serene and peaceful. The moon cast a pale, silvery light over the garden, illuminating the flowers and trees. It was filled with the sweet fragrance of the blooming flowers. The pathway was dimly lit with the soft glowing lanterns, casting a warm and inviting light onto you both.

"Princess," He greeted you with a bow. "Is there a reason you requested to see me this belatedly at night?" He questioned, his voice gruff, but his eyes betrayed him.

"Yes…" You took a deep breath. "Grandmaster, I believe I'm in love with you," You admitted, wasting no time admitting your feelings. Though you were nervous, you were also confident.

"Princess…" He trailed off, unsure what to say.

You stepped closer to him, feeling your heart beating faster with anticipation. "Please, don't say anything if you don't feel the same way. I just had to tell you how I feel," You said, trying to hide your disappointment.

But before you could leave him, he pulled you in and kissed you. He backed you into one of the pillars, pressing your back against it. The kiss became passionate. All his pent-up lust for you is pouring out now. His cold hands were going to cup your cheek.

Your love was forbidden, a princess with a Lin Kuei assassin? Not to mention, you were the next heir to the throne. Your father would prohibit you from ever seeing Bi Han again and most likely change the relationship between your kingdom and the Lin Kuei.

A secret relationship between you both blossomed. Bi Han would often meet you in your chambers or the garden. Occasionally, he would convince your father that he was best fit to guard you whenever you had events.

BONUS

You would leave your balcony window open for Bi Han to climb through at night. This was one of the nights when Bi Han visited you.

"Grandmaster!" You almost exclaimed, getting up off your bed to see him closer.

"Bi Han," He corrected you with a slight smirk.

"Sorry," You giggled, taking hold of his hand and bringing it to your cheek. His excellent hands felt cold against your warm cheek. "I missed you, Bi Han," You smiled, looking up at him.

His thumb grazed your cheek as you continued to hold it. "I did too, my princess," He spoke, leaning over to kiss you.

His lips pressed against yours, and you both were locked into a fiery kiss. Bi Han's other hand gripped your waist, pulling you deeply into the kiss. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, gaining entry into your mouth.

Bi Han couldn't contain his desire anymore. Pulling away from you, he threw you over his shoulder, carrying you over to your bed. You giggled at his roughness and kicked your legs, but he easily held them in place.

He threw you down on the bed, got on top of you, and continued your kiss. One of his hands gripped your thigh, pushing up your nightgown just enough to expose your panties.

Your hands went up to his hair, fingers reaching his bun. You quickly undid it, letting his hair down.

He pulled away from the kiss again, pinning your hands above your head. His hair fell around his shoulders.

"You're so handsome with your hair down," You looked at him lovingly.

"Is that so?" He spoke, his hand trailed closer to your core.

You couldn't help but shiver, feeling his cold fingers touch the sensitive part of your thigh. He then let go of your hand, using both to pull the nightgown over your head.

You sigh softly, feeling Bi Han's hands run over your body. His lips followed down your body, stopping to give your breasts extra attention. Rubbing your nipple in between his fingers while sucking the other one. His eyes looked up at you, watching as your face contorted into one of pleasure.

His hand slid down to your stomach, holding you in place as he kissed your body.

"Tell me, do I have your approval, Princess?" He said teasingly, smirking.

"Yes-Yes," You babbled, running your hand through his long hair.

He pulled your panties off, and his thumb massaged your clit as the other hand spread your thighs further apart.

You bit your bottom lip, keeping your legs open for Bi Han.

He inserted two digits into your heat, the cold of his fingers giving you goosebumps. He began pistoning his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, not giving you any warning.

"Bi-Bi Han!" You grabbed at his shoulders as he continued his assault on your pussy.

"Tell me how you feel, pretty girl," He spoke, his eyes never leaving your face, obsessed with your reactions.

Let's hope you don't wake the whole castle up.

#bi han x reader #mk x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat smut #afab reader #bi han #bi han smut #bi han x you #lin kuei #bi han sub zero #bi han mk #mk1 sub zero #drabbles #one shot #smut #bi-han x reader #'

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Text

𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 || eddie munson x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || eddie's been your dealer-with-benefits for just a few weeks now, but you didn't know that he had another friend to spend time with when you weren't available... a plastic friend that he keeps in one of his drawers.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || over 3k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only, use of a fleshlight, penetrative/rough sex), dom!reader, sub/switch!eddie, slightly service top eddie?, reader is a proud slut, implied drug use, some fluff/feelings at the end, eddie being a sweet lil baby with a crush on his bimbo client

NO SPOILERS for stranger things in here!!! it's just smut with no relation to the plot of the show at all lmao

“Second drawer from the top,” he nodded in the direction he was indicating, and you bit your lip as you crossed the trailer to search for the goods.

After this many months of getting your supply from Eddie, you knew your way around the place. And on nights like this, when you were going to get high together, he let you get it out yourself while he prepped the grinder and papers.

“W-wait, not—” he started to correct you, because you were opening the second from the bottom, but it was too late. You’d already seen it, and you looked over your shoulder with a grin on your face as he started to blush.

“What’s this?” you asked tauntingly, picking up the black plastic fleshlight.

“N-no, don’t touch that,” he warned, “you… you don’t know where that’s been.”

“Oh, I think I do,” you grinned, standing up and starting to walk towards him. “It’s been around your cock, right?”

He stammered, but didn’t really say anything, as you sauntered towards the couch and admired the beauty of his flustered expression.

“Is this what you use when I have enough cash to pay for my shit the right way?” you wondered. But he probably thought the other way was the right way… it started small, jerking him off for a dime bag, letting him feel your tits so he’d share a joint with you. When you wanted enough to last you a while, you’d suck him off or ride him right here on this couch— or in his van, if you didn’t have time to go down to the trailer park for a deal. And you could tell he was getting a little clingy, now, wanting more and more of you, offering ‘free’ stuff if he could fuck you again.

Honestly, he was a good fuck, so there were times that you saved your money and just pretended you didn’t have enough cash to get your dose. You’d come here tonight with plenty to pay for it properly, but now… now you had new ideas.

“Is this what you fuck when you can’t fuck me, Eddie?” you continued taunting, sitting down beside him and looking at the toy more closely. “It’s better than just jerking off with your hand, right?”

“Y-yeah,” he admitted, voice cracking. “Yeah, it’s better.”

“Looks like it feels alright,” you shrugged, playing with the soft plastic end, modeled in the shape of a ‘generic’ vulva… not nearly as beautiful as the real thing. “Does it feel good when you fuck this, Eddie?”

He choked, but eventually nodded, and watched you slip a finger into the hole to feel the texture.

“Yeah, I can see the appeal,” you decided. “How do you use it— you put lube on first, right?”

“A-and a condom,” he added. “Easier to keep it clean…”

“That’s smart,” you smirked. “You fuck me without a condom, but sure, give the toy some courtesy—”

“I— I would’ve used one if you asked!” he insisted. “You said we didn’t need it—”

“I’m teasing you, Ed,” you rolled your eyes. “I just think it’s funny. You’re so careful with your toy, but so reckless with me… you don’t fuck any other clients raw, do you?”

“N-no,” he answered, “I don’t fuck any other clients at all… I… I actually don’t get laid that often.”

“Really?” you pressed, voice heavy with sarcasm. “That wasn’t obvious to me already considering you’re a social pariah and came in half a minute when I blew you.”

He swallowed, and you laughed, remembering how sweet it was when he came all over your face in a matter of moments— and started apologizing before he’d even finished. You promised it was fine— because actually, it was fucking hot— and he finally shut up when he watched you use your fingers to gather his come from your face and start licking it up. What are you doing? he’d gasped. Well, I can’t go back out there like this, can I? you’d replied.

“Still, I didn’t think you had this little number to come home to,” you giggled, admiring the piece. “Does she have a name?”

“I-it’s not a she,” he sighed, “it’s just an it. Can… can we smoke now, or what?”

“No, I wanna hear more about this first,” you insisted, and he groaned in frustration. “You didn’t give it a name, but… do you say a name when you’re fucking it?”

Of course, you knew the answer when he looked away quickly.

“Oh, baby, you can tell me,” you promised as you moved in a little closer. “Whose name do you say?”

“Y-yours,” he admitted, finally, and you laughed quietly again.

“That’s cute. You pretend it’s me?”

He nodded.

“Oh,” you smiled, “you must be very good at pretending. Because this thing isn’t nearly as good as me.”

You heard the way his throat caught on itself, and the way he breathed shakily as you reached forward to start opening his belt and fly. He lifted his hips to help you pull his jeans down, but you didn’t need to— you just reached into his boxers and pulled his cock out, surprised to find it already hard.

“Shit, Eddie, when’d you get a boner?” you giggled.

“Wh-when you said you were coming over,” he relented as you grinned, stroking him slowly.

“I’ve got you trained good, huh?” you noticed. “I told you I was bringing cash. You still hoped something would happen, right? But did you think this would happen?”

He shook his head.

“Put a finger in the toy for me, Eddie,” you instructed, and he did as he was told right away. “It’s not like me, is it? What does it feel like when you put a finger in me?”

“Feels like…” he breathed, looking down at where your hand was wrapped around his cock. “Feels like it’ll barely fit.”

“Mm, that’s right,” you agreed. “This toy isn’t that tight, you can only feel one wall at a time when you put a finger in. Guess it doesn’t matter when you’ve got this big cock to fill it up, right?”

He grunted through his teeth, and you stroked him a little faster.

“Still, it feels so much better to stretch me out, doesn’t it? Loosen me up a bit?”

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. “Yeah, it feels better t-to fuck you. So much better.”

“And this toy, it can’t get wet for you,” you said like you were just realizing it. “That’s so sad…”

“You’re always so wet,” he remembered with a little groan.

“Not always, Eddie,” you purred, “just when I’m around you.”

“Oh, god,” he moaned, head falling back on the couch. You leaned forward and spit down onto the head of his dick, spreading it with your hand so you’d have a smoother go of it, and you felt his cock flex in your palm. “Fuck, that… feels really good…”

“Yeah?” you encouraged. “But the toy feels better than jerking off, that’s what you told me. How about I let you fuck that?”

“O-oh, um,” he stammered, “I— I just wanna fuck you. Please? You can ride me if you want.”

You snorted— if you want. Like it was a favor to you, and not him desperate to the point of begging. You loved that begging… and unfortunately for him, you wanted more. Ignoring his request, you took your hand off of him and grabbed the toy with your dominant hand instead— and slipped it down onto his erection.

“Shit,” he hissed, “please— it’s not as good, you know it’s not—”

“But it’s good enough,” you reminded him, your tone getting a little more stern as you moved the toy up and down over his dick. “It’s good enough for you to fuck this thing, what, a few times a week?”

“More like every night,” he admitted. “I… I fuck it a lot. Sometimes more than that.”

“Really getting your money’s worth, huh?” you mocked. “Tell me, did this cost more or less than it does to give me free drugs so you can fuck me?”

“M-more,” he answered.

“Funny, how my pussy’s so much cheaper but so much more valuable,” you grinned. “I’ve always been a bit of a cheap whore, Eddie— you probably know that about me.”

“I… I never thought that about you,” he promised.

“You didn’t hear the rumors?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“I did,” he admitted, “but I didn’t believe them…”

“Do you believe them now?”

You were surprised to see him shake his head. “You’re so much more than that,” he insisted, and you stuck your bottom lip out a bit.

“Awww, baby,” you cooed, “you’re a bit of a romantic, aren’t you? Tell me, then— what do you think about when you’re fucking this? Pretending it’s me and all… what do I say, what do I do?”

“I— I don’t know,” he breathed, and you stopped moving the toy instantly— he tried to move his hips a bit to keep the pace going, but stopped when he caught himself.

“Don’t lie, Eddie,” you warned. “I like you because you’re honest. Don’t mess that up.”

He smiled slightly, eyes tinted with hope as he looked at you. “You like me?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I can’t stand the sight of you, that’s why I’m hopping on your dick every other time we meet up,” you answered sarcastically. “Geez, Eddie, are you stupid or something?”

You heard that whimper, the one he tried to suppress. “N-no,” he denied half-heartedly.

“Do you get a little stupid for pussy, though?” you wondered, and he forgot to answer when you started moving the toy again— proving your point exactly.

“Ohh god, baby,” he whined, clearly frustrated as his fists held on tightly to the sofa beneath him.

“You were gonna tell me what you imagine me doing, when you’re fucking your little friend here,” you reminded him.

“I— I think about you getting on top of me,” he began to describe, eyes falling shut— you hoped he was imagining it now— “and kissing me… asking me to fuck you…”

Wow, kissing and then asking for consent. Doesn’t get much more vanilla than that. Good thing you found his innocence endearing— well, good thing for him. Not so good for you, as you were trying to avoid catching feelings. Normally you liked fucking guys because of the way they looked at you— in awe, amazed. And Eddie certainly did that, but you actually liked fucking him, you liked how he felt inside you and how he kissed your neck while he warned you that he was close. You’d told him so yourself, you knew those praises pushed him closer to the edge— but you failed to mention he was the only guy that you liked feeling inside you anymore.

You failed to mention he was the only guy you never faked it with.

“What else?” you prompted.

“And then I fuck you,” he said plainly.

“How?”

“Hard.”

It was your turn to bite your lip. Good thing his eyes were closed or he would’ve seen how his words were affecting you. “And what do I do when you fuck me hard, Eddie?”

“You… moan, a lot,” he mumbled.

“Oh, that’s right— this toy can’t moan for you either, can it? Wow, you poor thing. Nobody here to tell you how good you fuck me.”

“God,” he whined through his teeth, and you moved the toy faster and faster over him— watching him thrust up his hips to meet it halfway.

“It’s such a shitty substitute for me, but you’re still so desperate for it,” you observed. “Are you always this desperate, baby?”

“Not always,” he breathed, smirking a little, “just when I’m around you.”

Hearing him repeat what you’d said before took you by surprise— and Eddie didn’t surprise you often. He was pretty predictable. He surprised you that first time you did something like this, by— bizarrely enough— giving you a hug after you’d given him a handjob. Guys, overall, tended to react the same way to offers of sexual favors or to seeing your tits and all that, but that was new. And weird. But sort of sweet? Mostly weird though. He surprised you again by making you come when he fucked you, but that was a much more pleasant surprise.

Still, overall, you’d gotten the hang of him and his habits pretty quickly. He liked to kiss your neck, he liked to watch your tits bounce while you were riding him, he held onto your hips and kept you down if you tried to get off too soon… what he didn’t do was hit you with little witty remarks like that one, and totally throw you off your game. Guess he didn’t get quite as stupid for pussy as you thought.

“You look cute,” you noticed, “fucking your toy for me. You usually fuck it faster, don’t you? You don’t like to take your time with it or anything?”

“I usually just wanna come,” he replied, “as fast as possible.”

The thought of him so pent up, fucking his fleshlight as he moaned your name, was… exciting, to say the least. You wondered if he ever did this while his uncle was home, across the trailer sleeping— did he have to bite his fist to keep quiet? That was extra exciting. “Do you wanna come now?” you asked.

“Not like this,” he pleaded, “not— not in the toy, when you’re right there…”

“Yeah, I’m right here,” you grinned, “but what if I wanna see—”

He didn’t even let you finish. “Fuck, don’t make me come in the toy, please,” he begged. “You like how I fuck you, right? I’ll do whatever you like, baby, please…”

That would be a tempting offer if it wasn’t always true. You simply picked up the pace again, making sure to push the toy all the way down to the base of him each time; he whined and gripped the sofa tighter.

“You can touch me instead, if you want,” you offered with a purr. “You can feel my tits— go ahead, Eddie, I’ll lift my shirt up for you—”

“No,” he choked out. There he goes, surprising you again…

“No?”

“No, I’ll come,” he clarified with a grunt. “If I feel your tits right now, if I even see them, I’ll fucking come— and I don’t wanna come in the toy, I wanna fuck you so bad, please baby—!”

“Shh, don’t get all worked up,” you smiled, “I’m gonna let you come in me, Eddie. Is that what you want?”

“Yes!” he shouted, “fuck yes— thank you…”

Oh, that thank you, it tugged at your heart more than you expected. “You just gotta promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

You smiled proudly. “I want you to fuck me the way you fuck that toy when I’m not here, okay?”

Pulling the fleshlight off of his cock, you watched it bob in the air helplessly for a second.

“I’m your toy now,” you told him, and he instantly launched forward to capture you in a kiss.

“You’re so much more than that,” he mumbled against your lips after a moment of it, and you resisted the urge to melt into his arms. He kissed you harder, deeper, needier— and just about when you expected him to pull you onto his lap, he stood up instead. “Hold onto the back of the couch,” he ordered. Well, you weren’t one to say no to that.

When you were bent over on your knees, holding the couch diligently, he yanked your shorts and underwear down and instantly speared you onto his cock. “Fuck!” you shouted, toes curling from the stretch— yes, you were dripping wet, but he was still a lot to take.

“So much better,” he sighed, “fuck, you’re perfect.”

He grabbed your hips and set a ruthless pace— fast and rough, filling you to the brim every time. This must be the way he fucks the toy, desperate to come above all else… and you loved it. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, even though the force of his thrusts made you feel like the wind was getting knocked out of you. He moved one hand up from your hips to your shoulder, keeping you from getting too far away so he could go as deep as possible; your eyes rolled back in your head. “Eddie,” you sobbed.

“Louder,” he demanded.

“Eddie!”

“Fuck, that’s it,” he sighed, “want everyone to hear you… they can all hear you, baby, keep going.”

And you did, screaming his name like you’d forgotten every other word— which wasn’t too far from the truth. You realized, then, that he really didn’t want you to be his toy. He just wanted you to be his.

“I’m close,” he groaned, so quiet it was hard to hear him over your own cries, “I’m gonna come inside you…”

“Come in me,” you encouraged, “come for me, Eddie— I’m yours.”

You said it because it was true, not because you knew it was what he wanted to hear. But, it still made him come in an instant. He held onto your hips and keeled over as he buried himself deep, giving you every drop and making you feel so beautifully full. He kept coming for a while, and you hummed happily as he started to catch his breath. “Fuck,” he panted, resting his forehead on the back of your shoulder, “I came too fast, I-I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay, I wanted you to,” you promised.

“But you didn’t,” he sighed.

“Don’t worry about it,” you laughed, “that’s another thing toys can’t do.”

“And that’s another reason why you’re so much better,” he replied, reaching down under you to slip his hand between your legs. His fingers started to gently circle your clit, just below where he was still inside you. You whined, and you heard him growl as you tensed up inside. “See, that— the way you grip me… I wanna feel you come, baby, do you think you still can?”

If anything, your problem was just going to be how easy it was— you’d gotten way too close from just a minute of being fucked like that, it was embarrassing. Well, it should’ve been embarrassing. But you weren’t as self-conscious about it as you thought you would be.

His fingers found a pattern, not too much pressure but still plenty, as they rubbed circles on your bud. You kept whimpering, trying to rock your hips back onto him, but he held you still to keep you from moving too much on his sensitive cock. “Just stay still, I’m gonna make you come, okay?” he breathed.

It was all about you, you weren’t really used to that. Actually, you weren’t at all used to that. Nobody had ever taken the time to make sure you came… even Eddie just usually made it happen on accident.

“Oh god,” you heard yourself gasp— you were fighting it, though you weren’t sure why.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s my girl.”

Yours. You came with a gasp of his name, your back arching deeper as he kissed along the line of your shoulder. He kept showering you in praise, letting you ride it out before he gently pulled you down to lay with him on the couch— careful never to let his cock slip out, keeping you full and warm as you started to relax.

It took you a minute to come back to reality, and you squeezed his hand at the end of where his arm was wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that, Eddie?” you smiled.

“What does that mean?” he chuckled.

Really, though, it wasn’t just that he managed to surprise you from time to time. It was the way that he made you surprise yourself. Maybe not all guys were the same, and maybe he was right: maybe you were so much more than what they thought you were.

#eddie munson x reader #sub!eddie munson x reader #sub!eddie munson #eddie munson smut

4K notes · View notes

ncteez · 1 year

Text

On Edge. (m.l)

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

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

WORDCOUNT― 22.5k

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

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

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

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

smut tags under cut::

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know what Wednesday is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Doyoung was great at texting you back too.

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

You: for three hours?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Doie: plans?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A ploy?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you’re cute?”

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

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

Second opening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-no.” He says quickly. “Did you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean,” He admits. “Sometimes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The jealousy hits again. It isn’t fair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MarkLee99_ sent a photo:

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

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

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

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

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

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

MarkLee99_ : …because i do

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

You: oh yeah, you’re definitely drunk

MarkLee99_ : am i being too weird?

MarkLee99_ : because you’re the one who started it

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

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

You: that’s……fair….

MarkLee99_ : so… :)

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

You: what are you drinking?

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

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

MarkLee99_ : yep

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

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

MarkLee99_ : because i want you

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

MarkLee99_ : yea

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

MarkLee99_ : yesterday

You: oh yeah?

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

MarkLee99_ : can you maybe wear them again

God, he really is that desperate.

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

You: i’ll think about it

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

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

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

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

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

MarkLee99_ : wait what

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

You: are you all flustered now?

MarkLee99_ : maybe,,,,

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

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

MarkLee99_ : would you?

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

You: flustered now?

MarkLee99_ : yea, wanna see?

MarkLee99_ sent a photo:

You: jesus christ

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

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

You: you looked hot when you did it tho

MarkLee99_ : am i really that big?

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

MarkLee99_ : could have one ;)

You: ….yeah

MarkLee99_ : yeah?

MarkLee99_ sent a photo:

You sent a photo:

MarkLee99_ : oh fuck

MarkLee99_ : you’re wet?

MarkLee99_ : sorry i wasnt expecting that

MarkLee99_ : can i save it

You: :)

You sent a photo:

MarkLee99_ : you should give me those panties instead

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

MarkLee99_ : will you still wear the other ones too?

You: you want //two// pairs?

MarkLee99_ : yeah :(

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

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

MarkLee99_ : can i call you?

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

You: I’m waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In my panties.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wet for you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mark,” Haechan grits through the mic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Head is pounding.”

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

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

Later, you wake to Doyoung gently patting your cheek.

“You want some food? Might help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Doie: good news and great news

You: oh? :o

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

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

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

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

Doie: I leave tomorrow if I accept.

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

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

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

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

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

Doie: love you babe :)

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

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

Mark: Doyoung’s leaving for 3 days

You: yep :)

Mark: ….do i even need to say it

You: nope

Mark: gonna clean my room

Dropping Doyoung off was weirdly bitter sweet. His confidence was through the roof as he kissed you goodbye. He even asked for a second kiss for good luck after rushing back to you a few seconds later. You knew he’d do amazing for this event, even with it so last minute. Everything Doyoung did was with effort and thought put into it.

That was the sweet part anyway. The bitter part is the guilt finally coming to you like it should have weeks ago. The fact that Doyoung is walking off to get on an airplane and Mark is at home cleaning his room to fuck you in it. It’s obvious that you don’t deserve either of them.

Still, the guilt hitting you now is unnerving. It took so long to come, and only consumes you when Doyoung isn’t around to nearly witness the infidelity? Shaking yourself of disgust, you head out of the airport and still find yourself pulling into Doyoung’s driveway.

You sit in your car for a moment. Thinking back on all of those small moments with Mark, wondering now if you still want him or if those moments were enough to satisfy the curiosity of your boyfriend’s brother. Even through the guilt, you still want him.

Stepping out of your car and walking up to the door felt too unfamiliar and nerve wracking, hearing your heart skip beats and your body melt away into the hole you fucking dug for yourself. However, the moment Mark opens the door and looks at you, before you could even unlock it yourself, every single guilt ridden thought disappears.

You don’t know what it is about him, and surely you’ve never felt this way before, because goddamn is it a blinding kind of feeling. Thinking back as you look at him, he seems different now despite having the same face and body language. Before, Mark was cute with his little crush. Weird even, with the way he lingered for too long to see you kiss his brother. Now, when you look at him, he looks like he isn’t at all the cute, shy little brother. He’s Mark, a man with wants and needs that have your name written all over them. You can’t fucking help yourself, and now being able to indulge yourself fully along side him, Doyoung is drowned out in the back of your mind.

Mark is still shy and timid in the way he moves but he knows just as well as you do what’s about to happen and isn’t at all shying away from the fact that he’s about to fulfill every dirty little thought he’s had about you since he met you. Hell, since he saw photos of you that Doyoung sent before he ever met you.

On cloud nine, Mark is timid when he, for the first time, makes a move on you. It’s shocking that he did it at all, if you’re being honest, but you lean into him. All he does is grab your hand, a touch that wouldn’t raise suspicions at all in Doyoung if he were to see it, but to you it’s the most intimate thing he could do at this moment. Because he’s leading you, and his eyes are hungry and unable to pull from you.

Not a single fucking word is said, everything already spoken and understood with nothing more than the look when he opened that fucking door. Mark leads you to his room, and the energy in the air is so electrifying it scares you. Never has a touch to your hand, or a leading pull to a bedroom made you feel so weightless. You think back to when you held his length in your hand, you had all of the power that day. Now, you don’t think Mark realizes what he could get away with. You’re falling into the same mindset you have with Doyoung, one where you want, need, and could beg to be touched, but you still yourself from falling too far into it.

Mark is even more gentle when he lets your hand go and turns towards you with a deep sigh, as if he’s preparing his entire being for what’s coming. Both of you like a deer in headlights, as if this wasn’t intentional or planned, you smile at him.

Mark lets out a nervous laugh at your smile, shaking his head and looking down. He’s already stiff beneath his pants, which are conveniently unbuttoned and unzipped. Even you, shamelessly wearing a dress with no panties. Doyoung thought it was for him, and he damn well did fuck you this morning while on a confident-high before you took him to the airport.

You knew Mark could hear it, and he didn’t appear to care. Because in all fairness, Mark did not give a fuck. Because he knew you weren’t his at that moment, but you fucking would be before the night is up. The next three days, you’re his. Even if he never has you again.

That deer-in-the-headlights look from Mark fades as his eyes take you in without hiding it for the first time. You imagine he will fall apart if he were to trace his hands under your dress and find that you are completely bare, you imagine you would fall apart much faster if he touched you at all.

It happens so fast. Too fast, almost with the way he steps up to you confidently. You just now realize that he’s taller than you when he skews his head and looks down at your lips. His breathing is uneven and you can tell he’s doing his best to be confident because you haven’t made a move towards him at all like you usually would.

“I’m having a really hard time holding back,” Mark whispers out, inches from your face.

“Then don’t.” You encourage him without doubt, hoping that he can break past that last little boundary the two of you haven’t crossed yet. The one where he can kiss you, touch you, have you. Only because you can’t bring yourself to do it at this moment, for some reason.

The feeling of his lips touching yours was more bruising than you think he intended them to be, but the desperate feeling was all the same as your own, you think. Never had you actually stopped to think of kissing him or how he would go about it. Like running in blind, you’re learning that Mark knows what to do with his tongue, how to pace himself despite not wanting to, and how to reach up and hold your fucking face in a dreamy way.

His hands are cupping your face, kissing you like you’re his girlfriend. He still moves his lips in a hungry and desperate way though, in a way that has you struggling to breathe by the force of it alone.

When his hands drop from your face and fall to your waist. Every new place he touches feels like it’s set ablaze. You press forward against his chest, walking him back as you continue to kiss, all the way until he falls back on his bed with an ‘oof’ sound.

Still, his face is slack as he stares up at you now, eyes struggling to stay trained on your face for too long as you begin to take off your jacket and reach over to pull at his shirt.

So badly you want to see him shirtless again, but he doesn’t argue, eagerly lifting it off of his body and lying back again.

Now that the initial intimacy has been established, you finally feel you coming back to yourself, thinking more clearly and finding a small list in your head of things you want and need to do for him. Starting with letting him really look at you.

“I know how much you like my panties, but–” You smile, standing in front of him and trying to keep your eyes averted from his length threatening to break through his pants.

“Let me see,” Mark urges you, tilting his head with a swallow and training his eyes on your thighs.

“You wanna see?” You ask for his clarification, bunching your dress up in your hands and preparing to lift it so he can see your bare folds sitting against him.

Mark blinks at you, nodding his head and nibbling on his bottom lip. He’s doing everything in his power not to reach up and grab your waist just to guide you on him. He’s afraid to move too fast, he’s afraid to embarrass himself with how fucking desperate he is for you right now.

“Look,” You say, nodding between your legs and lifting your dress.

“Goddamn,” Mark gasps as his eyes focus on the fact that you’re leaving a small wet spot against his pants. That’s your pussy on him.

Without a second thought his hands are on your waist, pushing and pulling you forward and backwards against his length. You blink hard at the sensation of the fabric rubbing against your lips harshly, and then open your eyes to look at him again.

He is still staring between your legs, almost losing himself to this alone. Then again, it’s the first time he’s ever seen you bare and he cannot get past the fact that Doyoung gets to see it whenever he fucking wants.

“I can feel it–” Mark chokes, referring to your wetness seeping through his pants and onto him.

You smile at him, now moving your hips on your own as you pull his hands away and push them to lay above his head. If he thinks this is good, you want to see how fast he reaches for you again.

It’s so easy when you lift yourself up, and incredibly cute in the way his eyes follow your core when you lift. He doesn’t even realize that you shove his sweats down and sit right back down, this time coating him in full with your slippery juices.

“Fuck?” You question cutely, forcing your hips to slide up his length despite him trying to hold you there.

“How are you always so wet?” He questions in a whimper, letting you move and instead grabbing the hem of your dress himself and holding it up so he can watch you slide against him.

“How are you so big?” You try to compliment, feeling him between your folds and wondering just how deep he could fuck you if he so wanted to. “So, so big.” You groan out this time, feeling the head of his cock bumping against your clit every few seconds.

Mark obviously doesn’t answer, his fingers are gripping your dress so tightly and his eyes are burning the image of you doing this into his head. He never wants to forget this moment of feeling you against him for probably the first and last time, because in all realness, this can’t happen again if he thinks too hard about it.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” He admits. “Just this once, please.”

The way he shuts up is entirely too arousing. You can see him thinking about you, practically able to see him process every part of your body on top of him.

“Take your pants off, quickly.” You finally say, frustrated when you slide back and off of him.

He does as he’s told when you stand to your feet in wait, and instantly he’s lifting himself and grabbing you, pulling you right back on him.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Mark whines, pushing your hips against him and keeping himself upright, careful not to fall back against the mattress so he can plant his lips against your neck.

You feel a bite and pull back from him, hips stilling.

“You can’t leave any bruises–” You scold him, and he simply nods and goes back to kissing against your neck and shoulder.

“Right, wouldn’t want him knowing that I fuck you better, right?” Mark mocks the situation as a whole, using reality as a form of ego boost, hoping to god that you lean into it rather than run from it.

It makes you a little angry, but you get it. Mark’s confidence must be through the roof because never would you have imagined him speaking to you like this, or mentioning his brother at all.

“Prove it and maybe i’ll play along.” You try to challenge him, but you know that he might actually be right. His size is definitely bigger than Doyoung’s, but can he work it the same way, or better? Can the shy, timid little brother actually satisfy you the way your boyfriend does?

Mark pulls back from kissing your neck only for a moment, moving to your lips and wincing at the feeling of your folds sliding against him still, maybe he did get a little too cocky there.

“Prove it?” He breathes against your lips, gripping your waist tighter and guiding you up.

He stares back at you with anticipation, and when you sink down just a tiny bit, he’s lunging his lips forward and kissing you again. Continuously as you sink down inch by inch, feeling him stretch you out in a searing type of pleasure, Mark just groans into your mouth. You can feel his chest heave against you as he feels your walls start to envelop him and when you’re finally seated, he pulls you down with him as he falls against the mattress.

There, in a hug, his mindless kissing becomes even more vacant as he holds you in place, fucking his hips up and into you in an aggressive pace. His lips release from yours and his moans come out strangled, breathless, and entirely desperate for you.

Mark holds you there for at least a full moment, feeling you clenching and drenching his cock in a way that makes the slide easy and pleasurable for him. His hips can move much faster this way, but the fear of coming too quickly forces him to slow his movements and open his eyes.

Your legs are spred out over his own, his cock is buried into you completely, and you fucking just take it? God, No wonder Doyoung is in love with you.

Mark’s arms release you from the hug and he uses one hand to lift your face.

“Sorry,” He says before getting a look at your face, but he ends up losing any thought in his head when he notes how blown your pupils are, face still contorted in a silent moan as you bounce yourself against him now.

What he was gonna say was that he was sorry he lost control for a second, but what he ends up saying now is “Oh my god, I want this so bad.”

Despite that Mark is getting everything he wants at this moment, all he can do is look at you and watch you grind your clit against his pelvic bone chasing a pleasure that he knows you’re feeling intensely right now. He thinks of himself in pity, all those nights of wanting exactly this and never knowing that he actually fucking gets to do it.

Without thinking, Mark doesn’t even know why he does it, but he keeps his cock buried deeply into you and knocks you over. He follows your body, adjusting himself behind you and pulling your leg up and draping it over his hip. There, he slips out of you only slightly to hear you whine at the loss. You’ve gone so silent save for moaning and he thinks he’s in love with you. Stuffing you again, he smiles at the way you throw your head back and look at him from behind you.

One hand now reaches around you and cradles one of your tits, the other snaking between your legs and experimentally tapping against your clit.

“Damn, Mark,” You manage to say in a more stable voice, realizing that he’s really fucking you in the spooning position now? Of course he fucking would. It’s such an intimate position, and the angle, you could argue, is one of the best you think you’ve ever felt.

“Hm?” He hums against your shoulder, feeling your body jerk as he fucks his length into you repeatedly. “Feels good, right?” He asks, moaning himself this time at the way you close your legs around his hand and grind back against him.

He’s quick to abandon your clit to push your legs open again, draping it right back in the same spot over his own legs. He can imagine how spread out you look, despite not being able to see it in this position. He’s heard time and time that women like this angle, and now’s the chance to test it.

This time, when you reach back and pull his face to yours, now kissing him with more force than you had before, he imagines the rumors were true. His fingers find their way back to your clit.

Mark’s moving his hips with intent now, trying his best to control how good he feels so that way he can focus on yours, and after one particularly deep thrust, he notices that you jolt and shiver.

“Oh my god, did I find it?” He asks, experimentally pressing his hips up the same way.

“Fuck-” You choke out, your body jolting without intent again and feeling shockwaves of what you can only describe as mini orgasms shooting throughout your muscles. “Right there, keep doing that,” You frantically encourage him, mouth falling slack against his lips.

He does, pressing his hips harder this time in the same pay. Repeatedly hitting the soft spot inside of you and ultimately sending you into a world of something you’ve, strangely, never felt before in terms of sex.

Mark watches you roll your head back, moaning out with a slack and somewhat pained face as he does it. He cannot fucking believe he found your g-spot on the first try and he will be damned to stop now.

He focuses now, grunting at the way your walls clench him so tightly each time he hits your spot with the head of his cock. He’s determined to make you come, make you babble out strings of his name and how good he feels. He needs you to feel so good that you’ll never think twice of letting him do this again, and again, and again, no matter how close you could be to getting caught.

His hips are going at a pace faster now than he thought possible, and with his fingers working your clit paired with his cock driving into the single most pleasurable spot inside of you, you find your body tensing up and your mind erasing every thought and memory. It’s so much to feel at once but you feel too weak to stop him for just the smallest moment of collecting yourself.

“Are you going to?” He asks, broken with his own moans and deep breaths as he does his best to keep pace and work you through it. “I know you want to.” He manages to breathe out, mimicking your own words from the time you had him in the palm of your hand.

And you do want to. So you fucking do. You come hard around him, clenching him so tightly that Mark stills his hips in disbelief at the way your body moves when you release. He can barely get the words out when he speaks, feeling you drench him with liquid fire. “You’re squeezing me so tight–” He chokes out, jerking his hips back and trying to pull out of you for his own release.

“Do not pull out,” You groan as your orgasm continues to choke you of your breath. “Let me feel it, do it.” You demand, pressing yourself back and enveloping the inches of him that he had pulled from you.

“Fuck. fuck.” He moans out louder this time, hands gripping your waist and holding you against him as he shakes behind you. You can feel him twitch inside of you as he shoots those thick, white ropes of cum against your walls. For a brief moment you remembered when he released from your hand, pressing himself slowly and roughly into your first. You were right.

Mark buries himself as deep as he can go, only grinding back a few centimeters before pressing himself flush against you as another spurt paints the flesh inside of you. You feel so full, and he’s packed so tightly in you that you genuinely think this is the first time you’ve ever actually felt a man come inside of you. Like really feel it.

When he’s done, he’s so fucking fast to pull out of you. It shocks you, actually.

“Where are you going?” You ask, looking behind you as he backs away from you momentarily in a panic.

“I don’t know how to like, end this.” He admits against your shoulder, still reeling from the fact that it happened, but now in a post-nut state of mind and kind of scared of how much he loved doing that with you.

“End it?” You ask, pulling away from him. “You want to stop?”

“You don’t?” He asks, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

“I mean, we both know what we are doing…” You trail off, sitting yourself up and fully aware that the guilt will always hit you at random times, but still, you want Mark. “And we still kept doing it.”

“Yeah, but–”

“But?” You ask, turning your body to face him as he sits himself up now. The nakedness of your bodies is not at all embarrassing at this moment.

“Mark, I don’t think I can like, not want you if you still want me.”

He nods his head reluctantly, wondering if this is you offering the fact that you’re willing to straight up, blatantly, and shamelessly cheat on Doyoung with him.

“Ugh,” Mark puts his face in his hands and then runs his fingers through his hair. “This is so fucked up.”

“Yeah, it is.” You admit, leaning towards him. “But If you never tell anyone,”

“No, no! I wouldn’t.” Mark throws his hands up defensively. “I only feel bad when you’re not here.” He says questioning himself. “I don’t think I’d be able to like, not ever do this again.”

“So we are both in this same little fucked up boat?” You ask.

“I guess so.” He laughs at himself, and then at you. “If he ever finds out, you know i’ll be found in a ditch somewhere, right?”

You laugh, despite it being the worse fucking joke in the world. Running hand in hand with Mark into a fire that you both fucking searched for.

“Well, I’m not gonna fucking tell him.” You say, pressing the important matter at hand. “The point is, Mark, I need you to understand that I’ve never cheated on anyone.”

Somehow, he lightens the mood.

“Damn, I must be special.”

You guess he is.

#mark lee smut #mark smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #neo-hub #nct-writers #nct dream smut #mark lee fic

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dreamtuna · 4 months

Text

Laid Bare By Moonlight

It's finally done, I've slain the beast. And I'm pretty happy with it. This is a piece I've been working on for a while now and I just kept editing it over and over. But I'm finally letting it out. I'm a bit nervous about this one lmao but I enjoyed writing this a lot and I hope you guys enjoy it too! And yeah I'll probably write a sequel because I want to know what happens next. Attack on Titan - Levi x fem!Reader, Levi x Unknown Woman smut, afab!Reader, listening through wall (without their knowledge), masturbation, jealousy, slight obsession tbh, walked in on/caught in the act, but okay with it! pretty enthusiastic about it honestly, shame, praise, begging, oral (fem receiving), Reader is a bit of a subby mess and she loves it, very brief mentions of threesome and cum eating fantasies Word Count: 4.9k On a sleepless moonlit night you don't expect to be kept awake by your Captain, but this is what happens when you forget to lock your door.

The darkness wrapped around you but sleep refused to come. No matter how hard you tossed and turned, there was no comfort and there was no rest, that much was clear. The frustration pooled in your body. You were exhausted, body weary from pushing extra hard in training lately. It was tough these days to think of much else except for your chronic underperformance. And now the stress of it all was eating away at your sleep. It seemed to have become a self feeding monster.

You threw your legs out of bed and walked across the room to the window. The moonlight had been bleeding through the thin curtains anyway, so you felt you might as well enjoy it fully if sleep wasn’t going to come and take you away. You pulled them back to bathe the room in it.

You returned to your bed, eyes drifting across the room at the empty one directly opposite. Most people envied you, having a room to yourself. You had the freedom to make a mess, the freedom to stay up late if needed, the freedom to have night time visits. But your room was spotless, you were usually in bed at a decent time and you hadn’t had a single partner since you joined the regiment. You’d just been too busy, too preoccupied with putting everything into this and proving you could do it.

Now look where that had landed you: alone in the middle of the night, insomnia gripping you by the throat and refusing to let go.

You heard a door open as the occupant of the next room returned for the night. It was rare to hear considering he would usually choose to sleep at his desk instead of in his bed. But sleep was never the purpose.

A light, floaty giggle travelled through the walls. Yeah, there it was. The stress relief. Captain Levi was not alone.

Now you were alone with your thoughts and the hushed excitement of some girl next door, muffled sounds drifting through the wall. Was that his boots being removed? Was that her body on the bed? Was that his on top of her? You couldn’t help it, your mind began to wander. Sitting with your back against the wall, you closed your eyes and listened.

Maybe you should’ve picked the other bed when you took this room.

You knew this was wrong. Only a wall separated you. You couldn’t hear much, but you could hear enough. You could hear the bed strain under their joint weight as they moved into positions you could only imagine. You could hear her moan loud and sudden as he, most likely, inserted himself into her, wasting no time. You could hear Levi hush her harshly, cutting off the objections which followed in what you could only imagine must be a rough kiss. And you could feel your hands drifting down your body as your lips opened in a silent gasp, your back arching slightly off the wall, imagining him slick with her excitement as he thrust in and out of her, as your fingertips danced over your light sleepwear.

You knew this was wrong. He was your Captain. But you had been attracted to him for as long as you knew of his existence, overflowing with excitement when you were picked to train under him. And as you heard the bed groan rhythmically under his thrusts you couldn’t help but crave being under him right now, a toxin beginning to flow through your veins. Jealousy clouded your judgement and your fingers worked their way under the waistband of your shorts.

You gingerly reached for your warmth, almost scared of what you might find, as if you weren’t already aware of how turned on you were. Your clothing did nothing to muffle the obscene noises your fingers made as you ran them up and down your slit, playing with your wetness before swirling them over your clit. Your back arched further as you touched the bundle of nerves, your desire and jealousy intertwining dangerously as you heard this faceless girl taking what you wanted. Biting down to suppress the building dark pleasure that wanted to rise out of your throat, you listened intently as the object of your desires gave her everything that should have been yours.

You almost scoffed. You were just another cadet to him. A promising one, sure, that’s why you had been picked to work under him, but just a cadet in his eyes nonetheless. He didn’t seem the type to mix business and pleasure, instead opting for these infrequent meetings with nameless women he likely never thought about again.

You wanted to be one of them so badly.

The cool night air caressed you, a much welcome feeling as your body began to heat up. Your free hand snaked up your stomach, pushing your t-shirt up to expose your breasts. You squeezed, pinching your nipple as you heard her cry out next door. She was getting close. Even to you it was obvious. The Captain had given up on hushing her but she seemed muffled. You thought about his firm hand clamped over her mouth, scowling down at her as he drove her closer and closer to climax.

It was too much. You needed more.

In a sudden movement you pulled your shorts off completely. Desperation overtook you, throwing yourself down on the bed, imagining his hands pushing you down, holding you in place. He would grab your legs, pushing your knees into your chest and exposing you completely… all for him. Much like she probably was right now. You pinched your nipple harshly, your pussy tingling as the dark wave of envy consumed you. Finally, you pressed first one finger, then a second, into your eager hole.

You had barely inserted the second when you realised the loud groan of pleasure you were hearing was actually coming from you.

You froze. Surely you hadn’t been that loud. It just seemed loud because you were the one who did it, right? The bed continued slamming into the wall separating you and you let out the breath you didn’t realise you had been holding. Deciding you were safe, you began to move your fingers in and out. Slowly, you savoured the feeling, the pleasant intrusion taking but a moment to get used to. You tried to match the rhythm of the bed next door, but it felt entirely insufficient. All you could think about was Levi’s cock driving in and out of her, coated in her wetness. A desperate part of you wanted so badly to be on your knees, watching them up close. You would wait patiently, mouth open like he expected of you, tongue ready to clean them both up. You wouldn’t resist when he’d pull out and push your face into her, commanding you to lick every last drop of his cum from inside of her. You wanted to do anything to please him.

The moonlight covered your body, your most intimate places only just shadowed by your knees pressed to your chest. It felt good, like you were in some kind of spotlight just for him. You writhed and you could no longer control your moans as they rose above your audible wetness. Sure, you had heard the Captain fuck once or twice before. It was a rare occurrence and you couldn’t begrudge a man under that much stress for indulging in his desires. You would usually just roll over and try to ignore the noises and the growing damp spot in your underwear. You’d spend the whole night dreaming of him and all the things he could do to you. But you never gave into your feelings like this.

Maybe the moon is affecting me, you thought, mind wandering hazily to the idea the full moon could affect your mental state. Through clouded eyes you stared out the window into the night sky, fingers never slowing. The only thing on your mind was how your Captain would look above you in that pale light, hair stuck gently to his brow with sweat, eyes an almost ghostly silver. In that moment you were convinced there could not be anything more magnificent.

Suddenly you snapped back to reality. The room next door was quiet now. Had you missed the end of the show? Whatever the case was, you still had your own needs to attend to. Unlike her, you didn’t have anyone to deliver you an orgasm on a silver platter. The more you thought about how you’d missed out on him slamming deep inside her, releasing with a grunt as her insides pulsed and milked him, the closer you got to falling off the edge of that cliff.

A moan tore from your throat, masking a faint sound you couldn’t quite place in the back of your mind. That was until you heard your door close a moment later. You gasped, freezing in place, vulnerable and exposed on your back with your legs in the air, fingers curled inside your entrance, hand barely covering your chest.

“You should really lock the door.”

Your body went ice cold. That voice. No, it couldn’t be. You were too anxious to move or cover yourself. You were too anxious to even look towards the door and confirm your fears. You didn’t understand what was going on. Blushing a furious shade of red - thankfully not very visible in the moonlight - you reluctantly tore your eyes away from the window, slowly turning to gaze across the room.

After a moment, the voice spoke again. “Do you want me to leave?” No, your mind pleaded, don’t leave. But you couldn’t respond. “I can leave and we pretend this never happened.”

Finally your eyes fell directly on him. Levi stood there, face unreadable in the shadows. But he was clearly staring straight at you. Embarrassment flooded your entire being at the thought of being seen like this, especially by him. You could no longer even form words in your panicked mind.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked again. His voice was gentle, wrapping around you seductively.

Your voice shook, but you managed to get out a quiet “no”. You cleared your throat and repeated yourself as strongly as you could. “Stay,” you pleaded, voice thick with desire, knowing it was your lust speaking but it didn’t change the fact that this was something you craved so deeply.

He seemed satisfied with this and walked slowly across the room until he stood above you. He placed one hand softly on your knee, stroking back and forth across your bare skin as he stared down at you. You couldn’t see his expression like this, but he could see almost all of you. Ironically, only your lewd position saved you from exposing everything to him.

“Don’t stop,” he told you.

You blinked up at him. “W-what?”

Levi leaned forwards, placing his hands on the bed either side of your face. Your breath caught in your throat.

“I said don’t stop.”

With a start you realised what he meant. Inhaling sharply, you began working your fingers inside you again. You felt your cheeks heat up instantly at the sound of your fingers plunging into you. You wanted to look away from him, but he was watching you so intently it felt wrong not to hold his gaze. He’d caught you at your most vulnerable, and your desperation was clawing at you to get out. You wanted to please him. Your mouth opened slightly as your breathing picked up and the slightest smirk appeared on his features.

“You think I didn’t hear you moan before?” he said quietly. His voice held something in it that you couldn’t quite identify now, but it wasn’t malicious or menacing. It was stern, the type of voice that demanded respect, but yet it had that same warm edge to it as you’d heard when he first came in. “Can’t believe you’ve been lying here getting off listening to me fuck.”

You gasped at hearing it said out loud, the way he practically spat the word at you, your face flushing even deeper. You had to look away from him now. You couldn’t handle the shame as it washed over you as you felt yourself getting wetter with every word. You were even beginning to whimper now, the feelings intensifying with his warmth just above you.

He grabbed your chin, turning you to face him once again. Your eyes locked. There was a power in that gaze that you couldn’t resist, one that had you tumbling down and down into him, ready to give him everything as you had dreamed of for so long. And you knew, when you were consumed by those eyes, that he would gladly take everything you had to offer.

“What do you want?” he asked you, but you had no way of answering that. Your mind was going blank again as the pleasure rose. You knew if you opened your mouth now it would be an incoherent pleading. You had just enough dignity left to want to avoid that. Barely.

He pulled back, his hand returning to your knee to stroke it softly. You moaned at the sudden contact, fingers jerking inside you. You couldn’t believe you were behaving this way at even the lightest of touches. It was pathetic. Your insides squeezed tightly around your fingers. Your skin was on fire, desperate to feel him against you.

“Tell me what you want.”

It was no longer a question. It was not a request.

With great difficulty, you swallowed hard. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Everything felt crazy, like this was just some super vivid dream. It had to be. But his touch felt so real. His skin was rough against yours, neatly trimmed nails barely grazing against you from time to time.

Eventually, you managed to answer him in the smallest voice. “Please touch me.”

He didn’t need telling twice. Instantly he shifted, moving to sit on the bed between your legs, angling himself so he could appreciate your body in the light. Instincts kicked in and you began to squeeze your legs shut, shame threatening to overcome you, but his hands gripped your knees, firmly. Levi spread your legs and gazed down at your half naked body, eyes roaming you hungrily from your breasts right down to where your fingers still toyed with your juices.

In the moonlight you could see now his hair was mussed, the tips lightly dampened from the sweat of his previous exertions. The sheen of sweat was mostly gone, but you felt that bitter jealousy rising throughout you at the way his skin glistened, making him look ethereal. He’d pulled a shirt on, the top few buttons undone, his collarbones enticing you. You didn’t even notice as your tongue darted out to wet your lips at the sight of them, your hunger to cover them with a bouquet of nips and kisses growing.

You realised he must have literally finished with her, dressed and come straight through to you. The thought made your stomach flutter, an odd mixture between indignation and a deep dark pride at being next on his list tonight. Vaguely, your mind wandered to thinking about whether this was something he regularly did.

Levi ran his hands over your legs, jolting you out of your thoughts, holding them open so he could enjoy the show you were putting on for him. There was something intoxicating about the way he watched your fingers work. He stared intently at the glistening digits as they withdrew from within you, the light barely catching them now your knees were being held out of the way. He sat quietly like this for a moment. The only sound between you was your light panting and your own juices, almost deafening in the silence.

He leaned forward between your legs, sliding his hands up your thighs and onto your stomach before cupping your breasts. He squeezed gently, a warm strength wrapping around you, toying with your nipple ever so lightly. He worked his way down, planting the lightest kiss on your stomach. His body intermittently touched against your hand. You wondered if that was deliberate, your fingers pushing deeper inside you whenever he did.

You couldn’t hold back your thoughts any longer. “What happened with her?” you asked in a hoarse voice.

Levi paused, face hovering above your stomach. He looked up at you, sharp eyes connecting with yours. His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“I told her to leave.”

He said it like it was so simple, so obvious. Is that why you hadn’t heard anything? He’d just stopped? Or did he mean he had finished and immediately dismissed her? He watched you, eyes narrowing as he realised you were still digesting his words.

He sighed. “After I heard you she just didn’t feel the same to me anymore.” After a long pause he asked, “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head. You felt weird, but you weren’t exactly uncomfortable with it. Had you somehow stolen him away from her? All you were doing was masturbating to the sound of your Captain slamming his hips into a mystery woman without his knowledge when you may have let out a loud moan - what was so wrong with that? Well, it sounded kinda messed up when you put it that way. The whole thing was messed up, what with him appearing in your door. Your head was still reeling from it. A part of you said you should’ve shooed him away instantly, but the way his hands played with your tits was melting away any lingering doubt you may have had. You had wanted him so much, and now here he was. Were you really going to squander this chance? His lips pressing against your stomach again had you forgetting all about what was okay and what wasn’t. You pushed your stomach up towards him, craving more, moaning lightly for him.

“Ah, yeah, that’s the sound,” he whispered into your skin.

His voice sounded strained. He gave your nipple a sharp pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, and then did it again for good measure. Your nipples were starting to get so sensitive from both his pinching and the attention you had given them earlier. His weight shifted on the bed and suddenly he was leaning right over you. He pushed his body gently down onto you, staring into your eyes as he did so. You could feel his bulge through his pants as he pressed into your hand slightly.

Levi kissed you. Delicate at first, your lips touching for only a second, but it didn’t take long before you had both devolved to desperately pushing against each other. His tongue worked its way into your willing mouth, claiming you as his own. You moaned into his mouth and you swear you could feel him twitch against the back of your hand.

A thought crossed your mind. Carefully you pulled your fingers out of yourself, shifting your arm enough to grab your Captain’s cock through his pants. You stroked him gently. He nipped at your bottom lip. He was straining against his pants, his hips thrusting erratically into your hand almost as if it were a subconscious reaction to your touch. You could feel the change in his breathing as he kissed you.

Your fingers fumbled to undo his pants but with only one hand it was difficult. You started to reach down but he grasped your wrist. He promptly found your other wrist and brought them together above your head, pinning you to the bed. You whimpered. This was starting to feel a lot like your fantasies.

He pulled back from your lips for a moment. In the moonlight you could just see the glint of his steely eyes as he looked at you. Without a word he lifted himself off you, but before you could whine about losing contact you found his lips descending on your sensitive buds. Working first one nipple, then the other, lathering them with sloppy attention until his teeth lightly nipped. Levi kissed and licked your breasts, smothering them with soft, sweet sensations before adding in more sharp little bites. You moaned for him, arching your back to push your breast into his mouth. But he pushed you back down. With a loud wet kiss to each breast, he began to work his way further down your body.

You were in heaven. No one had ever made you feel this way before. No one had ever shown your body so much consideration. You’d been with others before, and some of them had attempted foreplay, but the keyword there was “attempted”. After a while it all just devolved into grunting into one another and hoping their motions would be enough to satisfy you. They never were. But this was different. Levi hadn’t even taken his clothes off yet and you felt close to the edge of something huge that had you gripping the covers in anticipation as you moaned for him. You knew the second his lips made their way lower there was a good chance you would just shatter into pieces underneath him.

His lips trailed soft kisses along your hips. You were still in disbelief at what was happening, but oh God did you believe it when you threw your head back and moaned his name as his lips descended on your clit. He immediately felt the way you were quivering and pulled back.

“Not yet,” he told you, firmly squeezing your thighs where his hands had come to rest, holding you open for him.

You whimpered, but that stern warmth of his voice had you willing to do your best for him, wrapping around and pulling you into submission.

You glanced up from your pillow. You could see his eyes looking up at you, awaiting confirmation of your obedience. You nodded in understanding and he kissed your mound.

“Good girl,” he whispered, sending jolts of electricity up through your body until they pierced your soul.

Knowing how sensitive you were, Levi was very careful with his touch. He pressed his forearm under your thighs, pressing your knees into your chest. You’d had your legs in the air so long they were beginning to ache, but there wasn’t a chance in hell you were about to complain. Especially not as his other hand made its way to take over for your earlier incomplete job. His fingers ran up and down your slit, admiring the way they would glide over you with how wet you were for him. Not messing around, he inserted two fingers straight into you and was instantly rewarded with you tightening around them, a whimper escaping you.

His lips came back down on your clit, sucking and licking at the bundle of nerves as his fingers began to pump in and out of you. He wasn’t gentle, but there was a certain care in his actions that made you feel safe. Maybe it was just your desire to orgasm tricking you into feeling that way. It really didn’t matter all that much to you what it was, it just felt good.

Levi enjoyed the way you whimpered for him. He wanted more of it until he was drowning in the sweet sounds you were making for him. But he could feel you reaching your limit. You were trying so hard to hold on for him. He could feel it in the way you tensed. He could hear it in how obnoxiously loud your pussy was. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, savouring the way they glistened with your juices in the moonlight. He licked them clean, eyes closing as your flavour engulfed him.

When he was done his lips were wet with the taste of you.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” he praised you, fingers working their way back inside. This time he got to feel that jolt of electricity those two words sent through you as you clenched around him. “Yeah, you want more of that?”

You whimpered louder now. The desperation was clear. You didn’t need to nod for him to know, but seeing the way you frantically bobbed your head up and down had a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The control he had over your pleasure was intoxicating.

“I can’t hear you. Do you want to cum or not?”

He lightly swatted at your ass. You groaned loudly, feeling your dignity slipping away with each second. You felt yourself almost lose it and immediately, despite the fog of arousal, it was clear in your head what you wanted.

You mumbled something.

“Hmm?”

“Please… Want to cum…”

“Tch, that’s no way to ask for what you want.” His fingers arched up inside you briefly, hitting that sensitive spot for the first time. It felt like your whole body jerked upwards as you cried out.

“Please, Captain…” You sobbed slightly now, your dignity all but gone now. If you could only actually get the words out.

He seemed pleased with your efforts, stroking that sweet spot again as a reward. It was too much. You were going to cum either way, you might as well please him at the same time.

“Please, Captain, oh fuck. Please let me cum.” You choked back a sob. “Please, I can’t hold it. Please.”

A low groan rolled out of him. For a second the rhythm of his fingers faltered in you. He wasn’t expecting your begging to be that sweet, but oh how he adored it. He placed a sloppy kiss on your clit, enjoying the sharp gasp it drew from you.

“Cum for me,” he whispered, words ghosting over the bundle of nerves. “Cum for your Captain.”

His tongue danced around you, fingers now pressing relentlessly into that sweet spot no one else had ever found. He sucked noisily on you, alternating between suction and sweet kisses and lapping tongue. It was driving you insane and within seconds of this assault you were falling apart beneath him, your moans so loud, so beautiful, that there was no way half the barracks hadn’t heard you this time. You pulsated around his fingers as they found their home deep inside you, playing with the nerves inside that made your body tremble beneath him.

When you had finally reduced to a whimpering mess he withdrew from you. He sat back and looked at his hand, covered in your love.

“Oi, look at me and open your mouth,” he ordered and through your hazy brain you obeyed without question.

Levi shoved his hand at your face. You got the message and eagerly took his fingers into your mouth, sucking and licking him clean almost hungrily in a way that made his cock throb in his pants. You were so far gone at this point, your inner desires carrying you now. You would do so much for this man if he only asked it of you. He made you weak, and after that you knew he could make you feel better than anything else in this world.

You so desperately wanted to hear him call you a good girl again.

He pulled his hand back and, much to your surprise, he lay down next to you. He pulled you into his arms, resting your head against his chest. You were stunned, letting him manipulate your body however he wanted.

“You did so well,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your hair gently. “Rest.”

“But you haven’t cum,” you blurted out, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt not really knowing what to think or feel right now.

His sweet chuckle only made you more confused. A noise you never thought you’d hear from him of all people. But there it was, followed by yet another brief kiss to your hair.

“Rest,” he repeated. “You can look after me when you get your breath back.”

After a moment the tensions in your body eased and you let yourself get comfortable in his arms. You couldn’t get it out of your mind how uncomfortable he must be having had no relief, but his thumb was making soothing sweeps across your bare back, your top still pulled up above your breasts so that your nipples grazed against the fabric of his shirt. Your hips were gently touching. His warmth was engulfing you.

The more he held you and gently pet you the more you found yourself sinking into that sleep you so desperately desired before all this started. You were a complete mess, heart only just coming under control, head swirling with endless thoughts about what had just happened. You decided to take up his offer of rest for just a while longer, trying desperately to remove all those doubts that were creeping back up from your mind.

Because in that moment, none of that mattered. The only things that mattered were his warmth and his gentle breathing beside you. The way his thumbs continued rubbing your bare back, soothing you endlessly. The way his bulge rubbed gently against you. It wouldn’t take long before he’d have you on your knees taking care of him, you were sure of it, but for now you could just melt into his body. His lips grazed against your hair again and you gripped onto his shirt a little tighter, sighing happily, stress and anxiety easing in your heart, even if just for a little while.

#ah FUCK i'm so happy to post this #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan smut #n.sfw #dream writes #dream writes: oneshot

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thebloodredraven · 3 months

Text

Akatsuki Secret [sub] Kinks - Part I

lineup: itachi uchiha, hidan, konan, sasori warnings: mentions and descriptions of rough sex, degradation, dumbification, mommy kink, humiliation, r*pe play, and edging, gender inclusive

- x - notes: I've had this in my drafts for a little while (a year lmao), but I couldn't get Hidan fleshed out tbh. His was hard. Anyways: minors do not interact, comment or reblog if you like it, and make sure to support other fanfic writers ♥ I only do these when the moment strikes so idk when the second part will be published but it'll get done! thanks ♥ - x -

Itachi: degredation/humiliation

Sure, he could be the best pleasure dom you've ever come across ever. Ever. But have you considered he gives you all the praise because he's tired of hearing it for himself? Every waking minute of his life, he has to hear about how great he is. How powerful he is. How nobody will ever amount to his power and prowess as a shinobi. Praise, envy, recognition, infamy, compliments, shoe-shining, ass-kissing, blah blah blah blah blah. He's heard it all before and he's sick of it.

You can't convince me he wouldn't fold, or at least pause him in his tracks, if someone told him he wasn't as special as everyone claimed he was. That he wasn't worth the hype. That you expected more from someone with his name. That the way he was writhing and keening from your fingers milking his prostate because he hates being edged was unbecoming of him. That Uchiha pride of his would fight back against the accusations and his eyes would burn with hatred, but the beet-red blush that covers his entire face and chest while you're impaling his wet throat tells you he feels otherwise.

That man wants to be spit on and called a cock-sucking whore while he's ass up taking a strap. Call him pathetic. Tell him how stupid he looks with his fucked-out face smothered in the pillows and slick all over his chin from when you sat on his face and smothered him until he couldn't breathe. Laugh at him when he begs for air by tapping your thighs. Ask him how he'd feel if his entire family could see him in a position that would bring the whole clan to shame, and he'd feel freer and more liberated than he has his whole life cause all the expectations people placed on him are GONE and he can just be your dumb little toy.

Konan: dominatrix

I feel it in my gut that this woman is a dominatrix at certain times. She feels like a switch, but the few times she needs to be in that special space? Needs to feel some semblance of control because everything else around her is out of her grasp because someone else has what she wants in their clutches? That's when she slips into that headspace.

Unlike Itachi as a pleasure dom, she's a no-nonsense woman and expects to be obeyed. You'll be rethinking about how you backtalked her when your top half is hanging off the bed while she fucks you with a brutality she learned to harness on the battlefield, the only thing keeping you from falling being her strong grip on your hips.

You've got drool sliding down your cheek and a tight grip on her wrist while she forces moan after moan after moan from you until you're screaming and crying for her to stop. Because after four messy, powerful orgasms you can't take it anymore. It's too much. She'll slow down once she sees you sobbing and bend down to kiss away your tears, letting you get a breather, but she's not pulling out. In fact, you're too dazed by her lips to realize the meaning behind her sliding her hands up your body to rest at the juncture of your neck. She presses one more tender kiss to your ears before whispering in a deceptively kind voice, "I know it's a lot, baby. But you know tears don't move me. Until I hear that safe word, you're going to take it until I'm satisfied you've learned your lesson. Now stop whining and spread your legs wider. You're in for a long night."

Hidan: dumbification/tenderness

You'd think this one would be easy because what you see is what you get most of the time with Hidan: a sadomasochistic pain-obsessed BDSM freak with very little boundaries. He typically requires a lot from sexual partners because that's all he's used to: intensity. Everything with him is always blood, violence, screaming, sacrifice, Jashin, Jashin, Jashin, kill, kill, kill. R8P play, flogging, knife play, golden showers, and even killing him are not above his desires. But this is about secret kinks. There are enough fanfics about him loving the thrill of being bullied by big muscular men to the nth degree, but what's something he'd keep hidden from everyone else? One he might actually feel embarrassed about sharing with someone? One he'd go to great lengths to hide because it's the one thing he's ashamed about feeling like he needs? It's not a kink at all. It's a human emotion that he craves to feel during the moment more than he's willing to admit: It's tenderness. It's making love to him to slow his mind down and coaxing his orgasms from him in a way that doesn't overstimulate him and watching him make sense of it. It's enacting acts of violence against his body with spiked whips, chain-shibari, and barbed wire but pressing a kiss to his fresh, bloodied wounds at the same time. It's making him understand that he craves violence and hedonism because it's the only form of control he ever has and taking it away from him is a risk you love him enough to take. It's being in the throes of pleasure and getting him right to his peak before forcing him to keep eye contact as his pleasure spills over and wracks through his body in waves because of the softness and admiration aimed towards him at his most vulnerable. He'll NEVER admit it out loud and he'd actually kill you if you brought it up any time outside of the bedroom, but you know. He knows you know. It works out.

Sasori: MMlb/DDlb

I see this man portrayed as a hard dom 98% of the time and I'm not mad about it, but........ The same man that figuratively and literally wears a hard shell of a mask to hide his vulnerable and delicate nature? The man that finds beauty in the most macabre things because it's everlasting and immortal, therefore will always be remembered and praised? The man that found peace after death because someone finally understood him? The man that created puppets of his parents for some form of connection to the intimacy that he was robbed of? The Scorpio? That man needs a Mommy with a capital M. He wants to be nurtured. He wants to be held. He wants someone else to hold the strings to his heart for a change. That bad attitude and mean streak doesn't change the fact that that man is a bottom; a bottom leaning switch at MOST.

#are these actual headcanons or am I projecting because I'm a dom? the world may never know #akatsuki headcanons #itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #sasori #sasori x reader #hidan #hidan x reader #konan naruto #konan x reader #the akatsuki #naruto #naruto shippuden headcanons #naruto shippuden

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radiant-reid · 1 year

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Heyyyy cate! Could you do a blurt or Oneshot on Spencer with his teenage daughter who maybe doesn’t seem to like his new girlfriend at all but really she’s just really scare of her dad’s attention shifting ? She could do rebellious stuff to gain it back and he would take a while to really get what was going on? 🥺

omg yes i live for this type of angst. also, i'm considering a series with single dad spence, what do we think ?? i don't have a plot or anything lmao

There's nothing Phoebe loves more than her dad, and there's nothing Spencer loves more than his daughter. You knew that getting into a relationship with him.

He raised it early before your third date during the month you were only communicating by text. Now, you can't think of anything worse than going that long without talking to him.

You've been an increasingly permanent fixture in his life and, therefore, Phoebe's, especially after Spencer got released from prison. He needed an adult to talk to, not his fifteen-year-old daughter, and you were happy to be that for him.

Things would have been good, perfect even, hopefully, with you integrating even more into their lives, but your relationship with Phoebe was rocky.

She must have struggled with her dad in prison, having to stay with Aunt Penelope for three months while she had no idea what would happen to their family.

It's only deteriorated since you started sleeping over. It's like whenever you're around, she refuses to come out of her room, and it's more hatred for you than it is teenage angst.

That night, Spencer calls, asking you to come over. When you get there, he looks furious mixed with worried, but the furious is taking over.

You run through a list of things that might have happened during the day to have made him so mad. Maybe a problem with his reinstatement, although it's been fine for months, or a problem with a higher-up putting pressure on the team.

"Hey, hey, what's up?" You ask, shutting the door behind you and slipping your shoes off.

He nods to the study, walking in wordlessly as you follow. It's even more concerning that he won't say anything until the heavy wooden door has closed.

"So not only has Phoebe been skipping school to go to the mall, she has been stealing." He rants to you, pacing angrily. "Stealing! My daughter, who I raised to be a morally good person has been caught stealing."

Your eyes widen as your mouth drops open. It's pretty unbelievable. Although she hates you, Phoebe's a good kid. She's got too much of Spencer in her to be anything but. He's more hotheaded than he used to be, and he's not seeing it from any other perspective than how morally wrong it was.

"Alright, okay." You say, grabbing his hands and steering him to sit on the leather sofa. "Just breathe for a minute."

He tries, but it doesn't stop his eyes from darkening. "I need to be thinking about how I can punish her."

You shake your head softly. "You can't right now."

He looks at you like you're dumb, but you know he doesn't mean it. "You can't seriously be defending this."

You shake your head again. "I'm not, Spence. I promise. But this is a cry for help." He's still not understanding it, so you put it in terms she'll understand. "Behaviorally, what does it say if someone's shoplifting?"

"It's a reaction to a loss, to fill a void real or perceived." He lists off the common parts of the profile before it clicks in his head. "Oh."

"Yeah." You nod. "This is a call for help, Spencer. She's struggling with something, and I'm guessing it's a mix of me and what happened to you."

His eyes cloud over with tears then, his whole face softening. It's his baby, who he's been raising since he was fresh out of college, and she's begging for help, even if she doesn't know it.

Then he feels terrible because what type of a dad is he to not realize she's having such a rough time? And because of his decisions?

You can tell, too. "Spencer, stop." You insist. "You're not a bad dad."

"How did I not know?" He asks, holding his head in his hands.

"Because she's a teenager who hides her feelings from her dad." You joke, earning a slight chuckle from him, his beautiful smile gracing his face once again. "So I'm going to go so you can talk to her."

He shakes his head, squeezing your hand. "No, don't go." He begs. "Her problem is not with you."

"It is." You assure him. "I've started coming around more, and it's a big change. You don't like change, and I bet she doesn't either."

That makes him smile lightly. They are similar in a lot of ways, and that means the better and worse traits. "Can you wait here?" He asks.

Hesitantly, you concede. "I'll be in your bedroom." You say before winking at him as he gets up. "Go do good dad stuff."

Spencer flashes you one last smile before leaving you alone in the study so you can retreat to his room. He's worried when he walks up the stairs. There's been a lot of moments as a dad that he hasn't been able to prepare for, but this feels like the biggest of them all.

Gently, he knocks on her door. "Hey, sweet girl, can I come in?" He asks.

"Not your sweet girl." She answers, although she doesn't tell him not to come in so he pushes the door open.

It's clear she's been crying. Her new heavy eyeliner look makes that obvious. "You'll always be my sweet girl." He tells her, sitting on her desk chair.

"So what's my punishment?" She asks. "No phone, no iPad, no wifi? I bet you'll get Aunt Penelope to block it all, too."

Spencer shakes his head. "Nothing like that, Phoebs. I just want to talk."

"About what?" She asks in return.

"What's bothering you." He answers. "You're a good girl, and you know that was wrong. You're too smart for me to tell you that."

Phoebe shakes her head. "I'm not smart."

"You are." He assures her. "So, what's going on?" When he doesn't get an answer, he guesses. "Y/n?"

"I- She's so nice." Phoebe starts, articulating her feelings much better than Spencer ever could. "And I've been mean to her. It's just- she's here a lot, and I'm not used to having..." She trails off, playing with her fingers in her lap. "Someone around like that."

He can guess what she's thinking easily. "Someone I'm romantically interested in."

"My aunts and uncles aren't here all the time, but I feel like she's here to stay." She explains.

Spencer nods. "That's a decision we make together, but yes, I want that."

"I do, too," Phoebe says. "She's nice, and she likes you."

"She likes you, too," Spencer reminds her, taking her hand. "But you'll always be my number one, sweet girl." She smiles at him, standing up and walking over to hug him. He pulls her into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head. "I love you."

"I love you, too, and I'm really sorry." She replies.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds family #criminal minds angst #criminal minds oneshot

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fatuismooches · 5 months

Note

SMOOCHES!! Hello hello again my cherub!! ૮꒰ ˶´ ꒳ `˶꒱ა

Fair warning: suggestive content!! I mean this in the fluffiest non horniest way possible but I think after some time that fragile!reader wakes up, they’ll feel down and like a burden. And I’m sure that there are always many days where they feel undesired or that they’re not as good looking as they were before in the Akademiya. Making them wonder if Dottore would even want them in such an intimate act. But I like to think that Zandik shoots down their ideas and decides to show them just how much they mean to them. I can only imagine that the first time that they do have intimacy after so many years have passed that it would be so so gentle and soft :(( maybe a few tears here and there from the fact that Zandik still loves them despite the changes their body has gone through and how it continues to deteriorate. And Dottore probably praises them in the way that he can, the Dottore way LOL. They probably couldn’t let Zandik go after that and they probably had him stay in bed with him. (Despite Dottore’s constant protests of wanting to check their vitals and make sure such an act didn’t affect them negatively. But it’s all sort of an excuse as he actually does want to stay 😭!!!) but yeah I like to think their first time was probably so tender and sweet especially with how frail fragile!reader is. And Dottore probably makes them always look at him so they can see just how perfect they are and that there’s no reason to hide from. He’s your husband :( why would you want to hide yourself from the only person you have now in this world. When he shows his love and care for you, he absolutely means it. (Also they 100% got bitten AT LEAST once during it.)

But you can completely ignore this if you’re not comfortable with adding on/writing about it completely understand smooches <33 but I hope you have an absolutely wonderful day and week!! December is almost here!! >_<

-from your dear boo boo bear 🎐 anon! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

IM SOBBING GOOD NIGHT (Warning: Under the cut for suggestive content, nothing explicit is mentioned though. Also reader has some insecurities about their body/looks.)

OH MY GOSH I REALLY CAN'T I JUST LOVE THIS TREMENDOUSLY 😭😭💗 i know the majority of people write him as being pretty rough and mean during this (which is totally understandable lmao) but!! i just want to think about him being soft!! Especially with his darling fragile lover!! :(

Though you were always a bit self-conscious, it only amplified after you came down with your illness, and especially after you woke up. It was just... genuinely hard to look at yourself sometimes and you couldn't help but compare yourself to other people. There were so much other pretty people in the Fatui, noble too, and Dottore could surely have any of them if he tried. Especially since he was exceptionally handsome himself. But instead, he was stuck with you, the one who was still so plain and ordinary, not attractive in the slightest. At least that's what you thought. So you shied away from your lover as much as possible. You couldn't bear to see the look on his face once he finally saw you for who you were. No one special.

Though Dottore is an extremely observant man so your thoughts won't go unnoticed for long. And he just doesn't understand. Why would you see yourself in that way? He thinks you're beautiful. And that's not just him speaking, no, he can prove it scientifically too (which manages a small chuckle out of you, but he's dead serious.) Even still, you two don't engage in intimacy until a long time later, but when you do it's very... well, uncharacteristically romantic. He's very prepared, considering how he must make sure he doesn't hurt or overwhelm your already frail body with it. Has to stop every now and then because you cry from all the emotions that you're feeling. Because sometimes you still can't believe that someone like him could love someone as insignificant as you.

You're definitely pretty weak after that, but you still muster all your strength to cling to him. And although you're not strong enough to hold him down your eyes beg and plead for him to stay with you. He's so warm too. And his arms are so comfortable and run over the sore parts of your body so nicely. So you beg him to just stay for a bit... just a bit more... well, he doesn't have to wait long because you're out like a light rather quickly. At least now you can't hide your beauty from him. He can gaze at you all he wants, and gaze he will.

I love this so so much 🎐 anon! He's just so *screams* i hope you're doing well my lovely 🎐 anon!! And yes December is almost here hehe (and my hands are constantly being frozen every day now 😨)

#smooches talks #🎐 anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #suggestive.content #NO ONE SPEAK TO ME IM SOFT #and “at least once”? nah far more than that tbh 😭😭 though hes learned to control the intensity of his bites #hes learned to gently gnaw on you now #he also has a tendency to keep moving your chin to make u look at him ewbwbf

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peony-pearl · 1 year

Text

Homestead

Here is the fic in it’s entirety without all the readmores; thanks again to everyone who kept up with this! This fic wasn’t meant to happen at all and was all written from the top of my head the moment I included Niwa and the kids lmao, so if anything consider this a rough draft for Ozai and Niwa’s story. It’s not perfect and there are some inconsistencies but I’ll tend to those as the main story begins to develop more ^^

****

A healed Azula having her first violent outburst in years after finding Ozai in his hiding spot in the Earth Kingdom. She has him pinned, aiming her hand that is popping with charged lightning right at his heart.

‘Beg for my forgiveness.’ She seethes as Zuko panics behind her.

Ozai remains calm.

Years have passed, long enough to realize what he did to them.

He does not deserve to even beg. He closes his eyes.

Azula’s own eyes are overcome with tears. The lightning is at its zenith.

But she is not her father. She releases the lighting into the air with a curse.

****

Azula trembles. She could hit him; she could hurt him, but she remains frozen. Fire and lightning boil within her blood. She feels Zuko grab her arm, pulling her away clumsily before she can hurt him - or herself.

“Let go,” she hisses softly to her older brother. Ozai remains still, only moving to open his eyes and to heave a sigh, releasing his pent up breath and muscles. There’s an added layer to his relief, one that he dreads them learning - he must convince them to leave. “What I did to you-”

“Don’t,” Azula snarled. “Don’t you dare say a word. What do you know? What do you know of what you did to us?! Do you even care?!”

Ozai swallows; his gut turns. Azula is finding her footing again. She is no longer the girl that cowered at his raised voice. Nor is Zuko the worried, wet-behind-the-ears Fire Lord. They have both grown in stature and demeanor, and have left all traces of Ozai’s influence behind, leaving two grown royals in place of Fire Lord Ozai: a deplorable, angry warlord trying to live up to a legacy larger than the ego he boasted.

An ego he himself had shed - but it was the ego that had bruised, burned, and shunned these two children.

Zuko tried to keep Azula from growling into Ozai’s face, looking every inch like a dragon. The first daughter born to the Fire Nation Royal Family in three generations had more fight in her than every male that preceded her.

“I hope you rot,” Azula spat. “I hope you die alone,” she said, smoke billowing from her mouth.

Zuko, trying to keep Azula from doing something she might regret, hears a twig snap; he turns around.

Ozai’s stomach plummets as Azula continues to berate him.

“Chen?!”

A voice cuts through Azula’s train of thought; she realizes Ozai is grimacing and looking away from all of them. Azula turns, seeing that Zuko is already frozen in place.

A woman stands in the path leading from the wooded area. Small in stature, with thick brown hair and olive eyes. She carries a basket full of finds from the land around them, pears, apples, mushroom and herbs. A swathe of cloth wraps around her chest to carry something snug against her chest; wisps of a baby’s hair peek out of the bindings.

Next to her, a small girl stands, holding a jackalope that is poised to be that night’s supper. Despite her small stature, she bears an expression that is very similar to Ozai’s when he is aggravated; she has the woman’s thick hair, but it’s black like Ozai’s.

The woman puts the basket down on the ground, supporting the baby bundled against her.

“Chen, who are these people?!”

Zuko and Azula stare at Ozai, whose face has become a nauseous green.

****

“Chen?”

The name blurts out of Azula’s mouth as Ozai doesn’t meet her eyes. Instead, for the first time since their reunion, Ozai uses force, but only to move past Azula so he can meet the concerned woman, who rushes forward to touch Ozai’s shoulder. “What is happening?”

“It’s alright, Niwa,” he says.

Niwa looks at the visiting siblings cautiously. “I don’t buy that.”

“It’s fine; I promise. Come on; let’s get the kids inside and start dinner and we can sort this out.”

Niwa stares at him, concern written in her brow. “Chen.”

But Ozai offers her a smile before gently cradling the wispy hair of the newborn strapped to her chest. Ozai looks to Zuko and Azula. “Niwa is a skilled cook; her roast jackalope is the best this side of the Earth Kingdom. You’re welcome to join us.”

Azula’s lip curled. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Zuko remained silent. He turned to the small girl slowly making her way towards Ozai and Niwa, holding tight to the jackalope in her hands. Her eyes don’t deviate from Zuko; despite her timid demeanor, she does not back down. Once she walks past Zuko, she rushes towards Ozai, who allows her to cling to him.

Azula bristles.

“Come now,” Ozai announces, nodding towards the house. “Let’s talk about this over a good meal. Or if you don’t have the time, perhaps you can visit again sometime soon.”

Azula watches as Zuko joins her.

They watch Ozai’s hand gently lead the small girl into the home.

Azula stomps forward towards the house.

****

It was tense inside. The small girl bustled in the kitchen without a word as she skillfully prepared all of the smaller ingredients for dinner. Ozai had taken the jackalope outside to butcher it. Zuko had all but held Azula in place to keep her from going to find where Ozai kept butchering materials - she had half a mind to gut her father.

Niwa returned from hers and Ozai’s bedroom, having taken a few moments to nurse and change the baby. She joined her daughter in the kitchen as Zuko and Azula sat at the table.

Zuko noted Azula’s anger at boiling point. He knew it was time to make peaceful engagements.

“… I’m sorry for any concern miss… Niwa?” He said. Niwa turned to look his way and she nodded, still on guard.

“Do you two know Chen?”

Azula’s frown deepened.

Zuko folded his hands, shrugging.“Yeah. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen him.”

Niwa folded her arms, leaning back against a counter. “Then maybe you can tell me why I met him in the sorry state he was in. Beaten and blacked out and half drowned in the forest out there. We’re a ways away from a town, so I wasn’t sure exactly how he got here.”

Zuko pondered for a moment. “That I can’t tell you.”

Azula’s laser-like gaze pierced through Niwa. “Looks like you’re not complaining that he’s around.”

Niwa met Azula’s glare. “No; I suppose not. I helped him get back on his feet, but for a while he couldn’t do much; whatever happened to him really took it out of him. When he recovered, he helped me rebuild my gardens that I’d used to feed both of us. It’s only been me for years so suddenly having two people took a bite out of my reserves.” Niwa smiled. “But then we became three, and now four.”

“Are you married?” Zuko asked. Niwa laughed.

“Not officially. Things just kind of happened; we’ve never really talked about it. When I realized I was expecting,” she said, patting her daughter’s head, “he just kind of said ‘all right then’ and stayed with me. He just… accepted it. He farmed when I couldn’t, learned how to cook, hunt, fish, butcher; he likes to stay busy. I’ve noticed when he doesn’t have a list of chores he becomes distant. When Chiyo here was born, we’re so displaced that getting a midwife was almost impossible for when the time came; and yet he never panicked; it’s like he runs on that chaos. Even so, he’s the one who’s put both of our children into my arms when they’ve arrived; he was the same way when Katsu arrived three weeks ago.”

Azula stood with a furious scrape of her chair, which clattered to the floor. Niwa jumped, but quickly moved to stand in front of Chiyo; but Azula wasn’t interested in moving towards them. Instead, she headed for the door that led outside, slamming it so loud that the trio still inside waited to hear if Katsu would begin crying.

“What did I say?!” Niwa asked as the pressure in the room deflated. She looked to Zuko. His eyes told her there was something he knew about this situation.

“You know him, don’t you?”

Zuko took a deep breath.

“My name is Fire Lord Zuko.”

Niwa’s mouth went slack as Zuko continued.

“That was my sister, Princess Azula.”

Chiyo held tight to her mother. Zuko thought he saw a smaller version of himself clinging to Ursa, who now resided back at the palace with her husband, Noren, and daughter, Kiyi. Zuko was slowly taking it in that he had more siblings.

Zuko looked to Niwa. “Chen isn’t his name.”

Becoming rigid, Niwa braced herself for more information.

“How do you know?”

Zuko felt a twist in his heart, almost as though he was cursing her with this knowledge she hasn’t asked for. “Because your children’s father is also my father; and my sister’s father.”

Niwa held tight to Chiyo. If her the man in her life was the father of the current Fire Lord, then…

The air escaped Niwa’s lungs as she stumbled back, holding onto the counter; out of her mouth escaped his true name: “Ozai”.

****

The door to the shed slammed open. Hanging on the walls were multiple hides, furs, and horns that had been harvested from the game in the woods.

Azula had no more tremble in her. Now she was painfully still as she loomed in the doorway. Ozai looked up as he quartered the jackalope for cooking.

He didn’t cower.

Azula walked inside, her eyes darkened with hatred as she approached his work table.

“I think you’ll like jackalope,” Ozai said. “It’s robust and sweet; but it takes a good hand to cook it or else it gets tough. It’s not as forgiving as komodo chicken.”

“I’m not here to talk about the stupid jackalope,” Azula grumbled. Ozai continued working.

“I figured. I just thought I might make conversation. Did you speak to Niwa?”

“Niwa? Your perfect little happy ending? With your perfect little babies?”

Ozai didn’t speak as he masterfully carved silverskin from a slab of meat.

Azula’s hands became fists. “It must be nice to just forget everyone you hurt when-”

“You think I forgot you and your brother?”

“You left!”

“You left me in that prison.”

“You were going to destroy the Earth Kingdom!”

“And you were going to be Fire Lord under my rule.”

“You used me.”

“You’re my child. I was giving your instructions.”

“You were going to make a CHILD the Fire Lord!”

“Funny… Zuko is only two years older than you and he’s Fire Lord. By the way, how is your uncle?”

“Don’t change the subject. Uncle has nothing to do with this.”

Ozai dunked a cleaver into a pot of water. He wiped his hands on a towel as he looked towards Azula as she continued. “You left your cell and found a whole new family.”

Ozai sighed, slinging the towel over his shoulder.

“You’re right. I did.”

Azula’s eyes flared, and she rushed forward to pin Ozai against the wall, multiple horns and antlers clattering down onto the floor.

“WHY WEREN’T WE GOOD ENOUGH?!” Azula screamed. “WHY WEREN’T-”

“I LEFT BECAUSE EITHER I DIED IN THAT CELL AS OZAI OR I DIED A DIFFERENT MAN.”

Azula’s screams withered. She stared at Ozai as he finally showed an emotion beyond indifference.

“I never meant to find what I have. I never set out to replace you and Zuko. That’s not the point of my life now. Niwa found me, and I… I had planned on leaving. I had planned on learning how to hunt and gather effectively before I struck back out on my own. But it… never happened.”

Azula’s grip on Ozai’s collar loosened.

Ozai felt the hand that had scarred Zuko tingle.

“… I found a life beyond the one that I carved from my desire to appease my father.”

Azula stepped back. Ozai finally looked to his daughter.

“What I felt the moment Chiyo was born, when my hands brought her into this world and all I wanted to do was protect her… it’s what I should have felt for you and Zuko. Back then I wanted to be a good father; but now I know that my own definition of a good father back then was something I never want to be again.”

Ozai stood up straight, ready to make his case known.

“Azula; I’m sorry.”

The words struck Azula’s heart like bramble.

“I’m sorry that I… I put so much pain and fear onto you. I owe you and your brother more words than I can ever say, and yet words don’t matter for what I’ve done. I’m sorry.”

Azula glowered at the former Fire Lord as he poured his heart out. She was all too aware of his false words to be convinced.

“I don’t forgive you,” she seethed.

Ozai’s expression remained neutral; he did his best to blink away the small, dewy tears forming on his eyelashes.

“A wise choice,” he said, his voice pitifully rough with the emotion he couldn’t hide. Azula watched as he returned to butchering the jackalope.

“I’m getting Zuko and we’re leaving,” Azula said. “We’re not staying for dinner, we’re not going to play nice. Whatever this is… I hope Niwa wakes up and realizes the mistake she’s made. I hope she takes those kids far away from you.”

The knife in Ozai’s hand finally fumbled as Azula spoke. He took a deep breath, letting her speak.

“And I hope everyone you meet from here on out sees you for who and what you truly are. A sad, pathetic excuse for a man.”

The silence that fell between them was nearly as suffocating as when Azula spit her barbed words. Ozai continued his chore as Azula turned away to leave.

But the door opened before she could reach it. Niwa stood, staring inside as Ozai peered up to her.

He could tell something was wrong.

“Niwa?” He asked. She stepped inside, looking at Azula.

“I’m sorry, may I speak with him in private?”

Azula shrugged. “You can do whatever you want with him. I’m getting my brother and leaving.”

“Wait, please-” Niwa reached for Azula but the princess avoided the woman’s grasp.

“Ask him. Ask him why we’re here-”

“I don’t have to.” Niwa said, looking at Ozai. “Your brother already told me.”

Finally Ozai’s calm shell fractured. He froze, looking at Niwa, who’s lips trembled. She opened her mouth to speak; a moment passed before she could find her voice.

“I’d had a feeling that my children were not your first, Ozai. But I could never really justify asking you such a personal question; even after all these years.”

Azula blinked; she stared at Niwa as Ozai realized he was caught.

Ozai cleared his throat. “… So now you know.”

Niwa’s eyes flooded with tears. “Your son’s eye.”

A painful silence passed before Ozai gripped the wrist of the hand that had caused that burn. “… Yes. I did that.”

But how? Niwa looked at Ozai, having seen what she believed to be every side of him over the past seven years. How he had cared for her, tended to her at her most vulnerable, made her believe he only had their childrens’ best interests at heart. How he held Chiyo and Katsu, and the ways he spoke to them and how Chiyo found true comfort in entrusting her father with her protection’; how Katsu was now beginning to recognize his father’s voice and had started to smile when he heard him.

But now she was learning that her childrens’ father was a man who continued the horrors of his fathers, passing all of that fear and hatred and pain onto his own older children.

“You told me your name was Chen. How long were you going to lie to me?”

“I never meant for it to be a lie,” Ozai quickly explained. “I… I was never expecting this to become my life.”

“… Are you happy here?”

“Niwa, of course I am. We have all of this, each other, our children; Niwa I’ve kept the name because I… I don’t… I’m no longer Ozai.”

“Camelephant dung,” Azula hissed. “Don’t even-”

“I’m not. That man is dead. I would bury him myself if I could.”

Niwa wrung her hands together. Ozai stepped forward.

“I would never hurt you, Niwa.”

Trembling, the woman looked up to him, unsure of what to believe. She opened her mouth-

“Chiyo! Chiyo!!”

The three in the shed jumped, turning towards the house as Zuko rushed along the path leading to the woods. Niwa bolted towards the Fire Lord, followed by Azula and Ozai.

“What happening?!” Niwa asked. Zuko pointed into the woods.

“Chiyo came outside to check on you, but then I saw her run into the woods; at first I didn’t think much of it since I’m sure she’s familiar here and I didn’t want to leave Katsu alone, but-”

Zuko pointed, and billowing from the trees was a ghastly blue mist.

****

Niwa wasted no time running into the wooded area to try and find her daughter - but just as soon as she ran inside, she came tumbling back into the clearing from between another set of trees. She realized what had happened and she darted back into the mist, only to emerge elsewhere in the clearing. She began to panic.

“Chiyo!!” She screamed as Ozai rushed to her. “Chiyo where are you?!”

No answer came, and Niwa turned to Ozai. “What… What are we going to do?!”

“Remain calm,” Ozai said, but Niwa’s fear quickly devolved into anger.

“You want ME to be calm RIGHT NOW, OZAI?!”

Ozai winced, getting used to hearing her say his real name. Zuko approached them, kneeling down to get a look at the mist.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a regular occurrence,” he said, watching the tendrils of smoke wisp around his hand.

“It’s not; this is the first time I’ve seen this,” Niwa said. Azula approached her, for once looking at her without the judgment of her father placed upon her.

“Do you have anything like a messenger hawk? It could fly above the trees.”

“It could, but how is anyone going to get through?” Niwa asked. Azula smiled.

“Again, they’re going to go over the trees.”

Niwa, confused, looked to Zuko, who smiled.

The town may have been a three-days trip on foot, but on an air bison, it was heavily reduced to twenty minutes. When Zuko and Azula had received information on the potential whereabouts of their father, it was Avatar Aang, along with his fiancee Katara, who had dropped them off and mentioned they would be back at nightfall if they hadn’t heard anything. Niwa offered parchment and a brush for Zuko to write to his friends.

Ozai appeared… nervous, to say the least, at the aspect of seeing the avatar again.

But at the rate things were going, it was possible that the only person who could fix quickly this was Aang.

The hawk took flight in the full, bright sunlight of the afternoon, and arrived as daylight became rustic and golden. The hawk was intercepted, and the letter was delivered to where the Avatar was staying - which wasn’t hard to find, as Appa was happily munching on some hay just outside of the parlor of an inn where Aang was conversing with the townspeople.

“Avatar Aang,” the delivery man greeted, “I have correspondence for you.”

Aang blinked, looking to Katara. “How does anyone know I’m here?” He asked, just as he unfurled the parchment. “Oh; it’s from Zuko.”

“Is everything alright?” Katara asked, immediately standing. Aang’s eyes continued to scroll through the letter.

“We need to go.”

Katara did her best to peel Aang away from his audience as quickly as she could. Within moments they were up in the air as the wind sifted through Appa’s fur. Katara scanned Zuko’s letter.

“Of all days for a spirit to show up,” she said.

“Good thing we stayed!” Aang smiled as they breezed through the atmosphere. They watched the forest canopy below them zoom by, and Aang shuddered.

“Yeah; something big is going on in there.”

“Look!” Katara pointed towards the mist streaking through the gaps of the leaves. “It’s some kind of smoke…”

“Let’s touch base with Zuko and Azula,” Aang said, flicking at Appa’s reigns to signal that they needed to hurry. Appa growled and quickened his pace, soon leading them to the small clearing where they’d dropped the royals off. They crested over the trees, seeing a small audience awaiting them.

As Appa landed, Aang and Katara joined Zuko and Azula, where a distressed Niwa’s fears were being subdued.

“Niwa,” Zuko started, “These are my friends, Avatar Aang and Master Waterbender Katara.”

Niwa sighed. “The Avatar, I can’t believe how lucky I am. I suppose being related to the Fire Lord has it’s perks?”

Aang looked at Katara, then to Zuko. “Related?” He asked. Zuko smiled nervously.

“So uhh; I need to tell you guys something.”

Azula peeked out from behind Zuko. “Our dad’s here.”

“O-Ozai?! Where? Is he the reason this is happening?!”

Niwa quickly intervened to quell the Avatar’s own worries. “No, no it’s not him! Please, my daughter; she’s lost in the mist!”

Katara maintained a hand on her waterskin. “Ma’am if Ozai is here then we need to consider him a threat; he escaped prison years ago and-”

“He’s my daughter’s father, he is NOT a threat!” Niwa snapped, her voice echoing over the livestock surrounding them.

Aang and Katara looked at Niwa, their jaws slack.

“The woods are usually peaceful. I’ve lived in this space my whole life. It was built and maintained by my great-great grandparents. I have never seen a spirit in my whole life. But for Chiyo to just run into the mist? I’m so worried; I’ve never had anything like this happen before.”

Aang heard the door to the house close. He became rigid as he recognized the form exiting the home.

Ozai.

The former Fire Lord walked down the path, holding something strapped to his chest. He noticed Aang, and even his own stride faltered.

Niwa turned to him. “Ozai! The Avatar is… Oh.”

It hit her that they had met.

Still, Ozai walked forward with Katsu wrapped against his chest. He looked at the younger man, now much taller. Nearly reaching Ozai’s own height.

“Avatar Aang,” he said. “If anyone can help, it’s you.”

Gripping his staff, Aang’s face darkened. “You’re lucky it’s a kid in there and not you,” he said, suddenly taken back by the fact that there was an infant strapped to Ozai’s chest as Katsu shuffled within the cloth.

Niwa, needing a distraction, took Katsu into her arms, holding him tight as she escorted Aang to the entrance of the forest. Along the way, he noticed some interesting carvings in some of the stones along the path.

“Those are airbender markings,” he said, noticing the swirl patterns. Niwa looked down, smiling.

“My grandfather laid this path after he married my grandmother. She started going blind after an infection, so he made a tactile path leading her around the grounds. Each path has a specific symbol. I didn’t know they were of Airbender origin.”

Aang opened his mouth to mention something, but he remembered there wasn’t much time to talk. Instead, he approached the entrance of the forest.

“I don’t know if any of the landmarks I know will be in there, but if you come across the well, there’s a compass at the base. It will help guide you,” Niwa said.

Ozai approached them, unwrapping the bindings used to hold Katsu. “I want to go.”

“Absolutely not,” Aang spat.

Niwa wrung her hands together as she pleaded. “Please, Avatar?”

“If anyone goes, it’s you,” Aang said.

Ozai frowned. “My son is too small to be without his mother for too long.”

“Can’t you change him?” Aang crossed his arms.

Ozai remained placid. “Of course; but I cannot feed him.”

Aang stuttered. “Maybe I should do this alone either way-”

“Chiyo will not recognize you,” Ozai said.

“Aang.” Zuko’s voice piped up. “I can go with you two.”

Azula stared at her brother in furious horror.

Aang wasn’t happy, but if Zuko was willing to back him up, he agreed to the situation.

“After this, you’re going back to prison, Ozai,” Aang announced. “I’ll see to it myself.”

Ozai looked into the Airbender’s stormy eyes; Aang then slammed his staff into the ground as his eyes and tattoo glowed an ethereal blue. With a wave of his hand, the mist opened, and the three men entered.

****

Azula, Katara and Niwa watched the mist envelop Aang, Zuko and Ozai. Niwa let out a shaky, bated breath as she gently bounced Katsu in her arms.

Katara looked to Azula, who seemed indifferent to the whole thing. Katara could notice the shielded way she stood and held her face - it was like when Katara had been reunited with her own father years ago, and the pain of his absence to fight in the war had resulted in her placing so much orphaned anger upon Hakoda. All of the feelings she didn’t have the time to sort through while helping to take care of the tribe, while traveling with Aang and Sokka and Toph and holding people together, she felt both displaced enough from Hakoda and trusting enough of her father to unload every negative, sour, complicated emotion she’d been harboring for years - and he didn’t push her away. The moment had allowed Katara to become more open with her father after the war, and the two were now on more even grounds than ever.

But a father that was absent for trying to help the world is different from being the soldier child of a man who held the whole war in his hands. Ozai may have only reigned for 6 years, but those 6 years were formative to Zuko and Azula. Sometimes Katara thinks about those months when Zuko chased her and Sokka and Aang, and she’s long-since realized that a parent burning their child for speaking out and then banishing them for an indefinite amount of time was cruelty beyond measure - but back then she was too young to understand, as was Zuko. But Azula herself had no idea the pressures and weights to being Ozai’s blessed favorite. Azula, having prided herself on the stature of Ozai’s talented, preferred child who held the burdens of her father so gracefully on her head, yet her own young mind, no matter how brilliant, couldn’t foresee how Ozai’s teachings would lead to Azula to sequestering herself out of paranoia before challenging Zuko to an Agni Kai while on the cusp of being crowned Fire Lord while Ozai was out demolishing what was soon to be the Old World, reducing it to ash to allow a New World to be reborn.

Katara noticed Azula’s detachment from the situation, and she approached the princess with caution.

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells, Katara,” Azula said without looking at her as she heard the decorative beads on Katara’s clothing rattling upon her presence.

“… I’m sorry. I just wanted to check on you.”

Azula’s face remained neutral, although Katara could see the effort being made to do so. Azula’s crossed arms tightened.

“I’m fine.”

With a nod that meant Katara knew she wasn’t going to get much more out of Azula, she backed away, thus moving to approach Niwa, but not before turning to look at the grounds. The house ahead of them was large, something she would expect to contain an entire family. Several other small buildings surrounded the area, like a shed nearby, a chicken coop, a barn for the lion-rams, every hybrid pig Katara had ever seen, and several ostrich horses. It was a handsome property; bright and colorful with flowers at the base of the mountain, and a ravine that wrapped between the land and said mountain.

Turning back towards Niwa, who bundled Katsu up in the wrapping blanket as twilight approached, Katara was taken back at the image of the woman as she lovingly spoke to her newborn. She also felt immense dread, wondering if this woman knew the extent of what Ozai had done to so many people. What if Chiyo and Katsu were just as doomed as Zuko and Azula? What if Ozai returned to his old ways of pitting his children against each other?

“… Miss Niwa,” Katara began, “how are you doing?”

Niwa sighed, holding Katsu up to her shoulder, gently patting his back. “Better than I was, but still… not knowing is the worst. I’m just… I’m so scared for Chiyo. I trust her knowledge of the woods; she’s played in them so many times before on her own, but this? I’m so scared of what this could do to her.”

Katara nodded. She looked at little Katsu, wondering if maybe he resembled Zuko or Azula when they were that age.

“I can’t help but ask… but… what convinced you to… to be with Ozai?”

Niwa closed her eyes. Azula’s eyes locked onto the other women as she maintained her distance.

“Nothing ‘convinced’ me. I found a man who needed help, thus I helped him. Things happened from there. He told me his name was Chen.”

“He lied to you as well?” Katara asked. Niwa shook her head.

“It’s not… it’s not like that.”

“He did.” Azula seconded. “He lied to you to protect himself. Look where it’s gotten him. A woman who will defend him and two new, perfect little children. Only this time he won’t mess up.”

Niwa’s already strained patience was waning. “You take me for a fool.”

“Oh you bet I do,” Azula scoffed.

Katara did her best to place herself between them, trying to maintain civility. “Let’s not get too riled up. We’re here to make sure Chiyo returns to safety-”

Azula finally stepped forward. “Which means removing Ozai.”

Niwa’s stomach dropped.

Azula maintained her stance. “At all costs.”

“No. I won’t allow it,” Niwa insisted. Azula pointed towards the forest.

“You’re so afraid of losing your children yet you’ll allow that monster near them?!”

“He has never hurt them!” Niwa shouted. Azula doubled down.

“You’ve seen my brother’s eye! He had no problem doing that to him and shoving him off! For THREE YEARS! And he had no problem raising me to believe that what he did to Zuko was justified! The war was one thing, but he pitted me against my family so I believed he was the only one truly on my side, and then what happened? He abandoned me! Do you know how long it’s taken me to understand what actual affection looks like? What it’s meant to feel like when my mother holds me so that I don’t think she’s using that as some kind of emotional bait??”

Katara was quick to act in intercepting Katsu as Niwa’s anger rose. Niwa handed her son to the waterbender as she stalked Azula’s way.

“And I am sorry, Azula. I am so sorry for what you two went through. I can’t imagine all of the pain and horror you must feel reliving what happened.”

“No.” Azula growled. “You can’t. You can’t imagine what it’s like to be so alone-”

“I’ve BEEN alone, Azula. Before I found Ozai I was alone for years! I’ve had family! I had a wonderful family! My grandparents, both of my parents, and guess what? They have all DIED! I have been here because it’s my home; it’s all I have. When I found your father I didn’t think to myself ‘oh look, I wonder if this man is former Fire Lord Ozai and I should leave him for dead’, no! I found an injured man here in a place of little threat and I wanted to help him, because that’s what my homestead is about! I never believed him to be Ozai!”

“Well now that you know, then you’ll understand when we take him back to the Fire Nation.”

Niwa didn’t budge. “Over my dead body.”

Katara stepped back. Azula’s mouth ticked a smile.

“Excuse me?” Azula laughed.

Niwa approached Azula with every word. “Over. My. Dead. Body. You are not taking Ozai. You are not touching him. When your brother and the Avatar return, I am giving you all my thanks in every way I can, but you are not removing him from my life, nor that of my childrens’ lives.”

“He’s a monster!” Azula shouted. Niwa shook her head.

“Azula; if you can change your perceptions, why can’t he?”

Feeling the back of her neck bristle, Azula stood rigid in furious horror.

Katara stood at the ready, holding a baby in one arm and keeping her other hand at her waterskin.

Azula’s lip curled.

“You want him so bad? Fine. Maybe I’ll talk Zuko into building a wall around this forest, so you all can stay locked up and so SO happy together.”

Katara shook her head at Azula, who ignored the waterbender. Niwa, her arms crossed, tilted her head.

“I thought you said you were different? That sounds an awful lot like an old Fire Nation tactic if you ask me.”

Azula’s fists shook. “… I’m… I’m not like that anymore. I’m not like him!”

“I know you’re not Azula; but in the same way, you’ve both changed,” Niwa said. “I just want you to understand that he’s come a long way. Just like you have; and I don’t intend to let him go after I’ve seen the man he’s become. I trust the man he has become. Just like Katara is here with you.”

Azula looked towards Katara. “What are you talking about?”

Niwa continued. “A waterbender here as a friend to the princess of the Fire Nation? After everything you’ve told me? You can change and build new friendships, but he cannot?”

Azula replayed the moment Katara chained her to that grate after besting her during Sozin’s Comet. But she said nothing.

But she didn’t need to as her charged posture diffused, and she stepped back, and away from the argument.

Katara waited and allowed Niwa to turn her way, taking Katsu back into her arms. The waterbender didn’t say anything at first. She knew enough about Ozai to hate him. She’d also once hated Zuko and Azula.

Katara herself was the reason Azula wasn’t crowned as Fire Lord. And yet here they were as… well… maybe not the best of friends, but by now they were on positive terms of acquaintanceship through Zuko, and through Azula’s continued work towards a healthier life. Today had been the darkest turn Azula’s mentality had taken in well over a year, and it worried Katara, but she also understood.

But she couldn’t help but wonder, as she watched Niwa defend Ozai - the man that Katara’s fiance defeated - maybe… if his children had achieved a life beyond the goals of the old Fire Nation… maybe Ozai had achieved that too.

Katara listened to Niwa talk to Katsu as he cooed.

“Don’t worry; daddy will be home soon with sissy. I promise,” she said, stroking her son’s wispy hair.

****

“Chiyo!!” Aang called out. “Chiyo where are you?!”

“Chiyo!” Ozai shouted, following Aang’s voice. “Come on! Let’s go home!”

Zuko felt something in the pit of his stomach as Ozai said that.

“Zuko, Azula! It’s time to go home!” Ozai would call as their feet were coated with sand and saltwater, and as they begged for more time to keep constructing their lopsided palace on the beach.

Zuko looked at his father’s expression as he waited to hear Chiyo’s voice. The concern knitted in his brow was something Zuko had never seen - or at least if he had seen it, time hadn’t done the memory much justice.

“Does she come out here often?” Aang asked. Ozai nodded.

“These woods have been peaceful since before Niwa’s time, from what I understand. Chiyo has played in here for hours on end without problem. I taught her how to swim in the fishing pond up ahead.”

Aang looked towards Zuko, who maintained a visage of neutrality. The Avatar fell back a bit, walking next to Ozai.

“… So Niwa found you in this forest?”

“That’s what she’s told me,” Ozai said. “I was traveling at night, through a forest near where we fought. Next I remember I was waking up in her home.”

Aang listened to the atmosphere around him. “There’s a lot of uncertainty around here. When we flew over, I could sense a large cluster of spirits.”

Ozai hummed; Aang could hear the concern laced within it. “I’ve always figured this place had… something within it. For as long as it’s been peaceful, even at night, I guess I rationalized it as some form of… guardian. Maybe I was wrong.”

“I don’t think that’s wrong, necessarily,” Aang said. “But, if there’s some kind of guardian, it’s being overpowered right now; and it feels angry.”

Zuko’s hands became fists, but not out of his own anger. “… You don’t think it’s here because of Azula and me, do you?”

Aang looked back, shrugging. “Spirits can follow emotions and intentions. I… I suppose it’s possible.”

Zuko felt a weight in his gut. He looked towards Ozai, who didn’t look back to Zuko.

Old fears resurfaced for Zuko; he hadn’t felt this wave of uncertainty around Ozai in years.

“Ah; there it is,” Ozai said as they approached the well. Aang stopped, getting a good look at it’s construction.

“That…that looks like one of the wells back at the temples.”

First the carvings in the rocks, and now the well’s architecture. Aang touched the stone, impressed with the craftsmanship.

Ozai looked out to the different branches that splintered off from the clearing. “Chiyo!”

Aang looked up from inspecting the well to look at Zuko. The young Fire Lord watched his father shout for his child, able to maintain a poise he once never thought possible as he yearned for scraps of his father’s approval. But he also felt guilty for potentially leading to this search.

“Dad,” Zuko’s voice broke through the ringing silence when no one answered his call. Ozai looked at his eldest child as he reached out, hesitating, but he still managed to touch Ozai’s shoulder. “We’ll find her. I promise.”

Ozai regarded Zuko with an air of surprise. The son who once told Ozai to his face that he was abandoning everything their family stood for and trained the Avatar in the ways of firebending just to dethrone his father was there helping him find a part of his ‘new family’.

The older man could see how much Zuko was truly beginning to resemble him, and it made his stomach turn as he remembered how much suffering he put upon Zuko for his supposed weaknesses - when those ‘weaknesses’ were traits he had inherited from his father. Traits Ozai wanted stamped out because of that very reason. If he had to let go of all of the tenderness in his heart to succeed in his endeavors, then Zuko had to do the same.

And yet it is Zuko that now sits upon the throne, having heralded a new start with care and compassion the likes the Fire Nation and the world hadn’t seen in a century.

And it took too many years and a new family for him to come to even begin to understand how much of himself he’d never gotten to know by denying himself tenderness with another person.

Ozai finally managed to answer his son by placing his hand over Zuko’s on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice gruff with overflowing memories and feelings. He cleared his throat, looking at Zuko, into his eyes that were no longer wide and pleading and unsure, but were now more sure than even Ozai was these days. He tried to smile for some levity; and for something he didn’t realize was important to say until the events unfolding. “You’ve really… You’re…”

The words couldn’t register You’re a good kid? You’ve come a long way? How so? The man who had bucked the mould Ozai tried to fit him into was now something completely different indeed. Would telling him he’d grown into a good man even mean something coming from Ozai?

Instead, Zuko offered another smile.

“It’s alright. We can talk about it later.”

Aang watched from behind, unsure as Zuko walked ahead.

“Aang,” Zuko said, “Can you sense anything from here?”

Aang closed his eyes, opening them as they began to glow. He slammed a hand onto the ground, and a glow of energy burst through the grass that only he could see. Zuko and Ozai stumbled back as the gust of wind nearly knocked them over, but Aang, as his eyes dimmed, pointed to a spot towards the north; as the glow dissipated, he found a set of small footprints.

“There! She’s gone north!”

But just as they prepared to take off, Ozai felt something grab his ankle. He fell onto his stomach as he was dragged backwards. Zuko turned to see his father being pulled by something he couldn’t see - while Aang saw a translucent hand reaching out, pulling Ozai away. A spirit that was hiding in the well was the culprit.

“We’ve found him!”

A cavalcade of noise deafened Aang; Zuko watched his friend try to block his ears as he winced.

“Justice!”

“Justice for our lands!”

“Praise to the Avatar for leading us here!”

“Now we need to remove the woman and the other parasite; then this land will be ours.”

Zuko rushed forward, grabbing Ozai’s hands to keep him from being dragged into the well. The two latched onto each other, and Zuko, for once, witnessed primal fear in his father’s eyes.

Aang found his clarity through the noise; he also darted towards the well, pulling Ozai out of the grip of the spirit.

“Avatar!!” It screeched. “Let us take this beast from this world!”

“No!” Aang shouted. “This isn’t the right way!”

“Your way didn’t work! Your human justice led him back here to infest this land!”

Aang and Zuko managed to pull Ozai to safety, and Aang created a barrier of spiritual energy around them.

“What is it you want?” Aang shouted. The spirits howled and screeched.

“On the day the comet painted the sky crimson, the Fire Lord set ablaze to our homes!”

“We have wandered countless eves since!”

“We nearly rid ourselves of him years ago! When we came across him wandering, just like us! We forced him to feel our rage! Our pain!”

“We have been trying to find him since, but something has kept us from entering this forest.”

“But we have managed to distract it by luring the older of the parasite’s children into the forest; He is busy keeping It safe.”

Aang, confused, looked around as the clearing continued to darken with encroaching spirits. “He?”

“His spirit feels much like yours. But regardless, Avatar. We are ready for our justice!”

“This isn’t justice!” Aang shouted. Behind him, Zuko helped Ozai to his feet. “This is revenge! And revenge only begets more revenge and bloodshed!”

“PERHAPS BLOOD IS WHAT WE WANT!”

As the sun set, the trees began to sway as the spirits convened, and they amassed together to create an amalgamation of rage and desolation, appearing in the form of a massive, armored spidersnake.

****

She turned towards the burst of energy that had erupted towards the south.

The other with her, carrying a lantern that glowed with a hazy, white fire, hummed to himself.

“Did you feel that, Chiyo?” He asked, looking at the small girl. She nodded, not looking to him; instead he watched her face where the energy was coming from, her little form frightened, but not shying away from the predicament. “He is here as well… I should go say my hellos. It’s been a hundred years, after all.”

Chiyo looked up to the older man, able to see the grass through his non-corporeal form; but after all this time of knowing him nothing about him frightened her.

“What happens if I don’t know what to do?”

“It’s alright, Chiyo. You won’t be alone. But we must make haste. Don’t worry. I will be right by your side.”

Beyond the trees, they could hear the screech of the spirits as they engaged in a heated confrontation with the Avatar, the Fire Lord, and the man responsible for displacing them.

“AVATAR! YOU WOULD DEFEND THIS BEAST? AFTER YOU PROMISED HE COULD DO LONGER CAUSE DESTRUCTION?”

Aang dodged one of the spidersnake’s piercing legs as it jammed into the ground.

Aang faltered with an answer as he landed on one of the spirit’s legs.

“I won’t stand for acting on vengeance when the other hasn’t committed any other crimes!”

“HE IS COMMITTING A CRIME BY BEING HERE! YOUR MORTAL SENTENCING DID NOT WORK! YOU ALLOWED THIS CREATURE TO ESCAPE HIS CONFINES AND INVADE OUR LANDS! AGAIN!”

Ozai dodged one of the legs as it prepared to slice him upon impact.

“Let me speak!”

“IT WILL ALL BE LIES!”

Another leg stabbed the ground. Ozai looked towards Zuko, who was unsheathing his swords; even as a master firebender, he found comfort in bringing these weapons along with him.

He turned towards Ozai.

“Dad!” He shouted, tossing one of the swords Ozai’s way.

“YOU WOULD CAUSE MORE BLOODSHED!!”

“Just the same as you!” Ozai barked. Aang, from up high, began to panic, and he descended towards the others.

“No! Wait this isn’t the way!”

“Then what do you want us to do?!” Zuko hissed as he tried to keep his eyes on the massive spirit.

Ozai lashed out, slashing at a leg that passed by them, trying to stab it where the armor was weak.

“OZAI!” Aang shouted.

“WHAT?! MY FAMILY IS IN DANGER!”

“THIS HAPPENED BECAUSE OF YOU!”

“I’M WELL AWARE OF THAT!”

“YOU CAN’T KEEP TRYING TO USE VIOLENCE, IT WON’T SOLVE ANYTHING!”

Ozai glowered at Aang. “Really? Maybe you should have killed me when you had the chance, boy. Then maybe this wouldn’t be happening.”

Aang’s mouth bobbed, but he quickly became furious. Zuko looked between the two. He had once insisted to Aang that he would need to kill Ozai; it would be the only way to truly stop him. But Aang didn’t, citing the importance of his heritage and views of mercy. But… Ozai had indeed escaped his prison sentence, and he had returned to the Earth Kingdom, and now the spirits of the lands that were scorched by his fire were seeking their retribution, and an innocent family was in danger.

Well; mostly innocent family. Zuko wouldn’t lie about how he wondered how Niwa could care for his father; how he wondered what kind of man she found within him.

“Zuko! Behind you!”

Aang blasted a gust of air towards the spirit before it could slam a sharp leg down upon Zuko.

“ENOUGH!” The spirit shrieked. It doubled down and charged at Aang, flinging him into the tree canopy. It turned towards Ozai. “You have chosen this land, and thus the bones of you and your family will decorate it!”

Ozai held onto the hilt of the sword with a grip that turned his knuckles white. “You won’t touch my family.”

The spirit cackled. “Oh? Let’s make things interesting.”

A leg slammed down, catching the fabric of Zuko’s tunic. The spirit rounded, tackling Zuko to the ground, and it reared back to bite down into Zuko’s ribs. The Fire Lord screamed as the pincers buried into his abdomen; the poison seared and stung his flesh and exacerbated the wound.

Ozai watched as Zuko howled.

Yet he never called for his father, who was right there.

“Papa!”

But another voice did.

“Mama! Papa!”

Chiyo’s voice was heard over Zuko’s screams.

“ZUKO!” Aang’s voice entered the noise as he returned to the fray; and Ozai once more grabbed the sword Zuko had lent him… Zuko had lent him a means of protection - which Ozai now needed to use for him in return.

“ZUKO!” Ozai screamed along with Aang, and he charged after the spirit. “Avatar! Give me a lift! I’ll-”

“No! I won’t let you kill it!”

“IT’S KILLING ZUKO AS WE SPEAK!”

Aang faltered, but Ozai didn’t. He reeled back and, with all of his might, he sliced through one of the spirit’s legs. It screeched in agony, finally releasing Zuko. Aang was quick to Zuko’s side as the spirit stumbled away from him. Ozai grabbed Zuko’s other sword, slashing at the spidersnake, eagerly cutting any tender part of it’s body.

Zuko fought for air, his mouth rendered dry from the effects of the poison. Aang was quick to pull some water from the well, and with techniques Katara had taught him, he began trying to heal the wound.

“VILE CREATURE! YOU BRING MORE PAIN!” The spirit screamed as Aang heard another leg thud to the ground.

“AVATAR! YOU ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN! YOUR BLINDNESS AND BIAS LEAD TO MORE DESTRUCTION!”

“No!” Aang cried out. “You chose this path! You have chosen revenge to deal with your pain!”

“MY PAIN BROUGHT ABOUT MERCILESSLY BY ONE OF YOUR OWN HUMANS! I ASK RETRIBUTION AND I RECEIVE PAIN!”

“You threatened me and my family!” Ozai shouted.

The spirit wobbled; seeing no other way to end this scuffle, it’s body rattled with determination.

“Perhaps it should no longer be a threat. You will know my pain.”

Even missing two legs, the spidersnake charged towards the home.

“NO!!” Ozai screamed. He looked towards Aang and Zuko.

“Zuko still isn’t healed!” Aang said. “I’ve removed the poison but-”

Ozai rushed forward, removing his shawl and pressing it against the wound.

Zuko lay bleeding; but Ozai’s family was in danger…

But Zuko was Ozai’s family… As much as neither were ready to admit it in full just yet.

Ozai’s face twisted; his method hadn’t worked. It had only hastened the problem.

“Go, Avatar. Please; help my family.”

Aang nodded, taking to the sky and flying back towards the homestead.

In the enveloping silence, Ozai was panicking; he had to get back, but what about Zuko?

“Zuko; can you hear me?” Ozai asked; gently jostling the Fire Lord. Zuko moaned; the poison had taken every bit of energy out of his body.

“He needs this.”

Ozai jumped as a voice made itself known from behind. A cloaked man… another spirit, judging by the way Ozai could see through him… he offered an herb to Ozai.

“What do I do?” Ozai asked, accepting it.

“Extract the oils with your palms; it will also warm it up, activating it; then apply it to the wrists, throat, chest; it will absorb and help him.”

Ozai quickly took to smashing the herb between his palms; in time creating a medicated-smelling oil, and he began dabbing as instructed.

“Do you know this man?” The spirit asked. Ozai felt how Zuko’s scar had even wrapped around to the back of his neck as he administered the oil.

“…This is my son.”

“I see,” the robed man said. “Quite a nasty scar on his eye.”

Ozai didn’t look back at him; instead he massaged Zuko’s wrists, hoping the herb would take effect soon.

“That must have hurt. Did you find the man who did it?”

Ozai stopped; he looked back to the cloaked man-

Who was gone.

A groan; a grimace.

“Dad?” Zuko asked. Ozai jumped, pulling Zuko to sit up.”What happened? Did we fend it off?”

Ozai shook his head. “No; can you stand?”

“I… I think so.”

“If you can stand, then I can help you.”

****

Aang flew as fast as the currents could take him. He kept tabs on the spirit as it charged towards the homestead; he hoped the others weren’t too close to the entrance of the forest.

He found a strong wind current, and he charged through the sky, able to see the clearing as he bypassed the raging spirit. He crested the canopy, and found Katara, Azula, and Niwa waiting nearby.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY!! GO TOWARDS THE HOUSE!!” Aang screamed; but it wasn’t long until the spirit burst through the trees.

Katara was quick to act, and she used the nearby ravine to create a wall of ice to contain the spirit. Azula shoved Niwa towards the house and ran to join Katara and Aang.

“Where’s Zuko?” Azula asked Aang as he landed.

“He’s in the woods with Ozai-”

“YOU LEFT HIM WITH OZAI?! ALONE?!” Azula screeched as smoked poured from her mouth. Aang winced, but he was distracted by the scraping sounds of the spidersnake’s sharp legs clawing at the ice. Katara continued to add layers of ice to the wall, but the spirit was chipping away too fast for her to keep up.

“It’s going to escape!” She shouted. Aang looked back to Niwa, holding Katsu as she watched in fear, and he bent giant split in the earth to keep the spirit from reaching her. Niwa watched in awe as her land was broken in half, and water from the ravine crashed into the gap.

“Okay,” Katara said, still adding layers of ice. “What’s the plan?”

Aang joined her, also layering on to the wall as Azula joined them at the ready. Aang nervously laughed.

“Uhh that’s a good question.”

“You don’t have a plan?!” Azula asked. Aang pouted at her.

“Oh like you two have been making one while we’ve been in there?!”

Azula pouted back and crossed her arms, remaining silent.

“I don’t want to kill it,” Aang said. “It’s suffered enough; but harming others won’t fix it’s suffering.”

“What does it want?” Katara asked.

“It wants Ozai and his family dead,” Aang said.

Azula hmm’d. “I don’t see the problem with that.”

“Azula!” Katara admonished, but Azula was quick to snap back.

“Do you know what it’s like?! To have gone through so much because of him and suddenly he’s so much happier without you around?!”

Aang helped add another layer to the ice wall as the spirit screamed in frustration.

“I don’t think that’s what happened, Azula.”

“HE NEVER WOULD HAVE HELPED ME IF I WAS IN THIS SITUATION! AND YET HE’S IN THAT FOREST LOOKING FOR HIS NEW PERFECT LITTLE BABY WHILE WE DO ALL OF HIS DIRTY WORK FOR-”

“OZAI STAYED BEHIND BECAUSE ZUKO’S HURT. I’M DOING MY JOB AS THE AVATAR, OZAI IS HELPING YOUR BROTHER.”

Azula went silent, but she appeared as though she could shoot lightning from her eyes.

“Azula,” Aang said; “Would you let a woman endure the pain you felt just to make yourself feel better? I know you wouldn’t; you quit that cycle a long time ago. You have to live it now. And not giving in to the pain you’ve endured sometimes hurts more than the memory of it.”

Azula turned her head, tears in her eyes.

“Think about Kiyi! You have another little sister and brother! If you put that same harm on them, what would that say about everything you’ve learned? And if Ozai has learned how to stop acting out on his own anger, then why be mad at that?”

“Because Zuko and I suffered!”

“But it’s not Niwa’s fault; nor is it Chiyo’s or Katsu’s. Your suffering isn’t your fault,” Aand said, looking at the spirit, “But enacting on that anger to hurt others out of justice… sometimes it’s only revenge; and the cycle continues. And one day they’ll see it as the right thing to keep hurting other. Is that the legacy you want, Azula? After everything you’ve been through?”

For a moment, the only sounds were Katara and Aang adding water to the ice wall to contain the spirit.

Azula took a breath. “So… what should we do with this?” She asked.

Aang looked to Katara. “We can’t just keep holding it… we have to do something to stop it.”

“And at what point do we put it down?” Azula asked, stretching her arms as her hands began to sizzle.

“… We don’t.”

Azula sighed. “Katara he’s impossible.”

Katara smiled towards her fiance. “Yeah; I know.”

The ice finally broke, and the spirit lunged forward. Aang leaped into the air as Katara used the water to skate out of the way. Azula bent a wall of fire to try and herd the spirit away, but it was almost too fast, and it kept up with the blaze as it extended. Azula cursed and focused her powers on her feet, and she burst forward, using her flames to hover and move quickly.

Niwa watched in horror as part of her homestead was lit ablaze. Even from her distance she could feel the heat from the fire. Her livestock bleated and clucked and screeched in fear as she held tight to Katsu.

She wondered why only Aang had returned from the forest; until she saw two figures at the entrance of the trees.

Ozai helped Zuko stumble along, the two of them taking in the sight of battle.

Zuko tried to stand, but he was still too weak. Ozai helped him sit as he he could see Niwa and Katsu were safe.

But there was still no sign of Chiyo.

Holding tight to Zuko’s swords, Ozai pondered his best course of action.

“Dad,” Zuko said, and Ozai knelt down to listen. “You should go back in and try to find Chiyo while it’s distracted.”

Ozai stared at him. “And leave you here?”

Zuko laughed. “It wouldn’t be the first time. I’ll be fine.”

The words stung Ozai, but he was right.

“Besides,” Zuko said, “I’m a better solo fighter.”

“And yet you’re here with all of these people who care about you,” Ozai said.

Zuko smirked. “I lucked out. They helped me realize how much worth I had when I was blind to it.”

Ozai’s throat tightened. “I’ve… gone through a similar situation recently.” Ozai said. “I just didn’t realize it until today.”

Zuko shook his head, weakly pushing his father.

“Then go; go find her,” he said. Ozai stood, and Zuko gripped Ozai’s hand on one of the swords, ensuring he had a good hold on the hilt. “Don’t fail another one of your kids. Or I’ll make sure you see that prison cell again.”

Ozai nodded. “As his majesty commands.”

Ozai rushed back into the woods, and Zuko weakly tried to stand, but his legs weren’t strong enough. His presence caught the eye of Katara.

“ZUKO!” She shouted, skating his way with her water ribbon. She landed in front of him and crouched down. “Where is it?” She asked, preparing her water as he showed her the wound. She was quick to begin healing it as he wrapped an arm around her for support.

“I told dad to go back in and look for Chiyo while you have the spirit distracted.”

“You haven’t found her yet?”

“No. I’m starting to worry.”

“… Do you think he’ll find her?”

Zuko looked back to the fight raging in front of him. “I want to hope so; for all our sakes. I don’t want to think of my father’s bloodlust going against this spirit’s. If we led this thing here and something’s happened to Chiyo, I don’t think we’ll have seen the last of my father’s anger.”

****

He raced through the woods, feeling a panic he wasn’t used to. Even when Chiyo and Katsu had been born, he wasn’t this afraid.

Only upon seeing Zuko and Azula and the reflections of the man he used to be, and now Chiyo’s sudden disappearance did Ozai feel his eyes grow hot with tears as his frustration built.

So many emotions seemed to pile on top of each other, one after another.

Perhaps he wasn’t meant to be a father; he was barely even a good son. But he tried so hard…

‘All I wanted was for you, my father, to love me!’

Zuko’s words pierced his mind, as did the image of Azulon’s emotionless face.

Ozai shook his head and he continued back down the path.

“CHIYO!” He screamed.

What if he never found her? What if she was gone?

‘Spirits can follow emotions and intentions-”

Aang’s answer to Zuko’s question earlier rang in his mind. Ozai had displaced those spirits… if they’d arrived following any animosity from Zuko or Azula, or even following the Avatar’s power…

‘I’ve taken away your bending-”

Ozai’s defeat at the hands of Aang had caused him so much grief… and yet his time here with Niwa, away from the palace, away from the place that had created his anger and self-loathing… She had given him something new.

The early days when she expected nothing back from him for saving him, and he stayed because he just… didn’t have anything left. But he did find her. And soon they had each other. He often found himself thinking about Ursa; and the guilt he buried to keep himself sane.

And then Chiyo was born; the physical manifestation of his new life as Chen, as Niwa’s other half. Years ago, Ozai waited for his children’s arrivals from a distance as Ursa was confined to special quarters. He was then fetched to be brought to his tired wife and a clean, swaddled baby, to which he was pleased; and yet Chen helped to guide his children into the world, containing his composure in contrast to the work and pain Niwa endured. His hands - the hands that shaped, raised and burned everything from the world around him, including his own children, now delivered new life.

It didn’t hit him until a moment passed after Chiyo’s birth and she hadn’t made a sound, until she finally began to wail. That sigh of relief Ozai breathed was something he hadn’t forgotten. The way Niwa smiled as she gathered up their daughter into her arms.

The way Ozai felt compelled, hours later, to take Chiyo outside; all clean and bundled and happy with her first meal, as he introduced her to her home; his own new home. How he told her it may not seem much at first, but it had welcomed him and had helped him become a new man, and now how Chiyo was just as welcome to this new home; as she was created by a land that brought two souls together.

“CHIYO!!” Ozai shouted, his heart feeling the strain with the passing of the hours full of worry.

But thankfully-

“Papa!”

Ozai whipped around, hearing the voice. He heard some foliage rustle, and clamoring out from behind a lilac bush was Chiyo as she ran into her father’s arms.

“Papa!!” She cried as Ozai fell to his knees. “Papa I’m sorry!”

Ozai kissed her forehead. “It’s alright, rosebud. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I didn’t m-mean for al-all of this to h-hap-ppen,” Chiyo sobbed. Ozai looked to her in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

A soft glow rounded the lilac bush, and Ozai saw the robed man from earlier, holding a lantern flickering with an eerie-white flame.

“You,” he said. The spirit smiled, approaching them before he knelt down.

“I’m happy that you’ve finally found each other. Chen, or… I suppose Ozai… I’m afraid I’m the one that may have set things into motion today,” he said. Ozai stared at him.

“Who are you?”

The robed spirit chuckled. “I’m actually an old acquaintance of Avatar Aang’s. My name is Khospa.”

Ozai’s jaw went slack. “You’re Niwa’s grandfather.”

Chiyo sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “I got scared earlier when that lady kept getting angry. I saw Grandpa Khospa in the woods and wanted to talk to someone. He always gives good advice,” she said, reaching out to let Khospa take her hand as he chuckled.

Ozai’s eyes widened.

“Always? Wait… this isn’t the first time you two have spoken?”

“No,” Chiyo said, finally smiling. “Grandpa Khospa helps me find mushrooms and the best berries! and told me I’d be a good big sister!”

Ozai remembered when Chiyo was a little less than optimistic when she learned about Katsu’s impending arrival; then one day she started proclaiming about how she was going to be the best big sister.

Khospa chuckled. “She can be a little spitfire at times, eh?”

Ozai smiled, unable to hold back his relief.

“But I think she’s ready to tell you something, right Chiyo?”

Ozai looked between the two, and Chiyo, nervous, held tight to Ozai’s collar as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

His slackened jaw almost hit the ground.

“You can… you can what?”

The sounds of a shriek pierced the night. Ozai jumped as he recalled what was happening outside of the forest.

Chiyo wriggled out of Ozai’s grip.

“Come on, Papa! We have to go help them! I have to help Aang!”

“I will help you find your way out,” Khospa said, holding his lantern out to guide them out of the forest. Chiyo eagerly held tight to her father’s hand as they rushed through the woods.

Ozai, looking down at Chiyo and her determination, now felt more strongly than ever about returning to find Zuko and Azula - and to ensure their safety.

Zuko who, as of right now, had been healed in full by Katara. He stood, still wobbly, but he no longer ached as he stretched in anticipation of fighting. In the distance, Aang and Azula had kept the spirit contained by dodging it’s advances and using their elements to herd it away from each other.

“We can’t just keep making it go in circles,” Katara said. “But Aang wants it to stay alive.”

“It’s angry. I just don’t know how we can quell it’s anger in a way that will satisfy it.”

“Zuko!”

Zuko and Katara jumped as Ozai caught up with them. They gasped as they saw Chiyo with him, and Zuko smiled. “Hey Chiyo! You’re back!”

Nodding, Chiyo looked out to the great spirit as it fought.

“Look, Chiyo,” Khospa said, pointing to Aang. “There he is. I think he could use your help.”

Nodding, Chiyo rushed forward much to Zuko and Azula’s horror as Ozai ran after her.

“Chiyo wait!” Zuko shouted.

“It’s not safe for you!” Katara insisted. “Ozai stop her!”

“I can’t,” Ozai said. “This has to happen.”

Chiyo approached the spirit, and Aang, floating above, watched in horror as the spirit caught her in its sights. It turned towards her, and Chiyo stood still, but not out of fear.

Zuko screamed at Ozai to intervene; Katara readied her waterbending-

But just as the spirit reeled a leg back to smash down upon Chiyo-

A gust of air rustled around her clothes, and she leapt into the air, high, high up… until she was face to face with Aang as the spirit’s claw came crashing into the ground.

Ozai watched, unbelieving, as his daughter took to the sky; Zuko and Katara’s shouts went silent.

Aang, wide-eyed watched this little girl hover for a moment as their wind currents collided. She smiled at him.

“You’re… You’re a…” Aang’s throat was dry.

“Avatar Aang!” Chiyo grinned. “My Grandpa Khospa says hi!”

“Khospa?” Aang echoed. He looked towards the entrance of the woods, where a figure stood with a lantern.

The memory of an Air Nomad, still struggling to get his tattoos, but was a beloved shepherd of young airbenders, came to his mind.

“Khospa?!”

“ENOUGH!” The spirit screamed. It reared back on it’s snake body to reach upwards, flailing it’s legs towards Aang and Chiyo, who fell back down to the ground. Aang caught himself, but Chiyo was poised to land - until Azula made a grab for her little sister, who knocked the wind out of the older princess as she slammed down. Chiyo looked to see Azula and she smiled nervously.

“Thanks, lady.”

Azula pushed her off without hesitation. “Just what we need, another cloud-brained airbender.”

With a screech, the spirit prepared to strike again, but Chiyo stood to join Aang as she poised herself against the beast.

“HOW DO YOU FEEL, LITTLE ONE? TO KNOW I WILL DECORATE THIS LAND WITH YOUR FLESH?!”

Chiyo didn’t let her nervousness invade her mind; she’d seen spirits before, but this was the angriest one she’d ever met.

She stepped forward, her hands clasped together. “Why are you mad?”

“I HAVE NO HOME. YOUR FATHER SAW TO THAT MANY YEARS AGO.”

Chiyo turned to look at Ozai, who closed his eyes out of shame.

“Papa, is that true?”

Ozai looked to her, and he nodded.

“It is true. This… isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done. I’ve committed many wrongs. Against this spirit, the world… your brother and sister.”

Azula and Zuko looked to each other as Ozai spoke.

Chiyo turned back to the spirit. “What is it that you want?”

“YOUR HOME IN RETURN. WE SHALL CLEANSE THE LAND OF THOSE WHO LIVE HERE AND MAKE IT OUR OWN!”

“You don’t have to do that!” Chiyo begged. She stepped forward as Ozai and the others made grabs for her to not step too close. “If you need a home, we are more than willing to let you live on this land.”

“WE WANT VENGEANCE!”

“Your anger is justified! But I can’t let you harm my family, or anyone else. But I can let you choose to live here. I don’t want you to suffer; but I don’t want anyone else to suffer. Please?”

The spirit looked upon Chiyo; and without warning, it reeled back to strike down upon her with it’s piercing leg. The others shouted, ready to remove her, but Chiyo didn’t budge; and just as she was about to be skewered-

The claw halted, just inches from her face.

Chiyo reached out to touch the armored claw, and the spirit shuddered.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re safe here; you can make this place your home, and you’ll always be safe. I trust you.”

The spirit trembled.

Aang stepped forward. “You have my word. You have his word as well, right Ozai?”

The spirit looked to Ozai, as he looked an absolute wreck as he watched Chiyo’s actions; but he and the spirit locked eyes.

“My Niwa opened this land to me when I needed a home. I took yours away; I now invite you to stay here, and make this land your own; with one condition.”

“… And what is that?”

Ozai placed his hand on his daughter’s hair. “That if you find anyone that is lost, you protect them. Beyond that, you’ll find Khospa; he will be glad to keep you all company.”

The Spidersnake backed away, and upon multiple parts of it’s body, light began to shine. The spirit allowed itself to come apart, and countless streams of light burst into the air, descending down into the ground, where the battered earth regenerated. Grass regrew and flowers burst forth.

“Thank you… ” They heard the whispers of thousands of voices. “I will abide by your condition, so long as you keep your own promise, and maintain the earth around you.”

Ozai looked to Aang. “I promise.”

Aang closed his eyes, passing the message along in spirit; and a cool breeze rustled the trees, playing melodies from nearby windchimes.

****

Niwa watched Aang return her land to one piece as Katara redirected the water that rose with the slab of earth. Niwa then rushed forward, holding Katsu tight as she embraced Chiyo.

“Oh Chiyo! Sweetheart!” She cried out, pulling her daughter into a tight bearhug. Chiyo hugged her mother back, eager to return the embrace.

Ozai watched them, and he tried to not be obvious as he turned to look at Zuko and Azula. Zuko sat on the ground, exhausted after his injury as Azula was staring Niwa’s way. She made eye contact with her father, and Ozai could almost feel the searing heat of her glare; he turned back towards the family in front of him.

“Mama, we kind of invited some people to stay in the woods.”

Ozai chuckled. He knelt down and looked to Niwa. “Well… we both did. But Chiyo did most of the talking. All that spiritual Airbender stuff, you know?”

Niwa still couldn’t believe it. “My baby is an Airbender.”

Chiyo nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I was… kind of scared.”

Niwa held her daughter’s hands like lifelines. “Oh baby; I’m so sorry if there’s ever been anything I’ve done to make you scared about telling me this.”

Chiyo, however, shook her head. “It wasn’t you. I guess I just got scared about it in general; there aren’t a lot of Airbenders so I thought maybe something was wrong with me. But then I met Grandpa Khospa! He helped me, and he told me he was one too!”

Niwa’s jaw dropped. “You… you’ve seen Grandpa Khospa?”

“Yeah, and he’s real funny! He helped me stay safe from the spirits today.”

Niwa looked up to Ozai, and he nodded that she was telling the truth.

“He’s actually over there, talking to Aang! They lived in the same temple!” Chiyo said, pointing towards the entrance of the forest. She could see Aang heading that way to greet Khospa. She couldn’t believe what she was looking at.

Ozai touched Niwa’s shoulder. “You should go see him.”

Niwa’s eyes glossed over, and she held Katsu tight before Ozai gently relinquished her grip of the boy, cradling him against his chest. Ozai stroked her cheek, and she answered with a touch on his hand, still looking towards the spirit of her grandfather.

“Go on,” Ozai whispered, finally convincing her to go.

As Niwa slowly made her way over, she could see Aang and Khospa strike up their conversation.

“It’s good to see you, Aang.”

With happy, but tearful eyes, Aang looked upon Khospa, unable to believe he was with one of his brethren.

“Khospa; I can’t believe it! But… you’re so old… I mean you’re- you’re dead but… look how old you got!”

Khospa laughed a raspy, hearty chuckle. “I… I was lucky. I managed to escape just as we noticed the Fire Nation descending upon us. I was using my glider at the time, so I had a means to escape. I tried to get my bison, Kooka… but she had been…” Khospa shook his head, overcome with emotion.

Aang’s heart dropped, remembering Kooka, a sweet, apple-driven bison, who was the sister of Appa’s mother. She was beloved by weavers as her fur was one of the softest of all of the bison; her fluff was worn by countless Air Nomads.

Khospa cleared his throat and continued: “But… I was still able to escape. I hid in the Earth Kingdom and made a new life. I joined the army, but had to hide my Airbending, or risk being found by the Fire Nation. Unfortunately I lost one of my legs, and couldn’t fight anymore. That was when I met my wife, who’s family lived here and maintained this homestead. It used to be a whole community; but the war took it’s toll,” he sighed heavily, looking upon the still-beautiful land. “I took to the Spirit World before my death so I could be with this land, and my descendants.”

“I’m so sorry, Khospa. I shouldn’t have run away… I should have been there when the Fire Nation attacked.”

“Aang… I’m not sure there would have been much you could have done. You were so young, let alone untrained.”

“I could have done something!”

“And what if they’d killed you too? Then the world would have had to wait anyway for the Avatar to appear again; and with the way the Fire Nation ravaged the Water Tribes? Aang…”

Aang felt the warmth of Khospa’s ethereal hand rest on his shoulder.

“Aang, you may not be proud of it, and it may not have been a brave decision… but the decision you made saved the world. And you still stood to right your mistakes, and you put an end to what destroyed our people.”

Aang smiled, wiping his eyes.

“Thanks, Khospa.”

With an embrace, Aang felt so much of the guilt that he had been carrying begin to ease. He noticed Khospa look up; Aang turned to find Niwa approaching, wringing her hands together emotionally.

“Hi Grandpa,” she smiled. Khospa beamed.

“Hello, Rosebud.”

As they watched from the field, Chiyo found the courage to approach Zuko and Azula.

“Are you feeling better, Zuko?” Chiyo asked.

Zuko nodded, patting her head. “Yeah. I think I’ll make it.”

Chiyo looked up to Azula, who held her hand out to stop her. “If you want to ask me anything, you will call me Azula. Not lady.”

Zuko leaned forward, whispering to Chiyo. “Call her lady, I’ll vouch for you.”

Chiyo giggled, but she simply regarded Azula with big, stormy eyes. “I… I heard you’re my brother and sister.”

Zuko nodded. Azula made a hand gesture indicating that ‘maybe’ they were siblings as she wobbled her outstretched hand.

“I’m so excited!” Chiyo danced. “I thought all I had was stinky Katsu.”

Azula smirked. “Funny; I used to think the same thing about Zuzu; but then we found out we have another sister on our mom’s side, and now I can actually say I have a favorite sibling,” she grinned.

“Hey!” Zuko feigned a hurt tone. “I’m not stinky.”

“Uhh that time we fought each other after you’d been on the run for weeks? Nasty; you smelled like Uncle”

“And who’s fault was that?!” Zuko shouted. Azula looked over her nails.

“Hmm; couldn’t have been mine.”

Chiyo’s eyes lit up further. “Uncle? I have an uncle?”

Zuko nodded. “You sure do.”

Azula shrugged. “He’s alright.”

“Uhh, he’s the best?” Zuko responded. Azula wrinkled her nose.

“Eh, he’s okay.”

Chiyo turned around. “Papa! I have an uncle!!”

Ozai’s face winced as he wondered what else the kids were telling Chiyo… but who was he to stop them from telling her everything he’d held from her? He turned to see Niwa speaking to Khospa, and he hoped their conversation was everything she’d needed after being alone for so long.

Ozai looked to Katsu in his arms as the babe slumbered. He knew it was time to tell Niwa everything. To finally confront the name he’d abandoned to save his own hide years ago. He owed it to her, and to his children. To all of his children.

Niwa gave the final blessing for the new spirits that had taken refuge in her forest. She told Khospa that, to let them know she was thinking about them, she would make a birdcall he had taught her when she was little. As she gave the signal a trial run, whistling out a perfect mimic of a songbird, the forest slowly erupted into a chorus of whistles.

Khospa hugged his granddaughter. “I won’t be far, Rosebud. And I will continue to keep watch over Chiyo and Katsu, and any other grandchildren you might bless me with.”

Niwa didn’t want the embrace to end, but before she could say another goodbye, she realized he was gone. Niwa laughed, wiping her eyes as Aang touched her shoulder. “He hasn’t changed.”

She and Aang returned to the crew as he checked in with Katara, who was visibly exhausted, as well as the others.

“You’re all welcome to stay with us for the night. I have plenty of hay for Appa, and my house has enough rooms for everyone.”

Aang and Katara were eager to take her up on the offer; Zuko nodded as well, but Azula seemed… less than excited. But she finally relented.

As she ensured everyone had a good meal (unfortunately the jackalope meal had to be discarded after being left out for hours), Niwa escorted everyone to their rooms and tucked Chiyo into bed.

“Goodnight, Rosebud,” she whispered as Chiyo was quick to fall asleep after the day’s trials. Niwa kissed her daughter’s forehead as Ozai did the same, holding onto Katsu as he looked upon her. He had so many racing thoughts; for so long he had wondered if she might have become a Firebender. But instead, something he never could have dreamed had happened.

Ozai felt Niwa’s hand on his back, and he stood to join her as they retired back to their room.

So many events that day… the two simply changed into sleepwear and Niwa tended to Katsu, settling him into the crib set up in front of the bed.

“Goodnight, Starshine,” she whispered. Ozai sat on the bed, still too wired to close his tired eyes. Niwa joined him, sitting back as she sighed. A few moments of silence passed before Niwa spoke.

“Okay. I need to know,” she began. Ozai, nervous, looked her way. “What am I calling you from now on? Chen or Ozai?”

Chen was the man that Niwa had met and fallen in love with. But he no longer existed; he was a farce to begin with. Ozai was the man that Chen replaced in Ozai’s own mind - but Ozai was still alive - both physically and in the memories of his older children, the Avatar, and the world.

Chen never existed. Ozai remains; despite how much Ozai himself wishes he could move on. But he already has, but that didn’t mean his children had moved on. Their pain was still evident. The pain of so many was now evident after an entire colony of spirits had found him and were willing to destroy everything that had brought out the best in him.

He sighed and took Niwa’s hand.

“… Ozai. My name is Ozai. I’m sorry.”

Niwa shook her head at him, finding a smile through the situation.

“Whether you’re Ozai or you’re Chen; if you plan on remaining here as though nothing happened today… I will call you whatever you wish.”

“Then just call me ‘my love’,” he grinned, pulling Niwa closer as she laughed.

“Let’s not get too embarrassing,” she said as Ozai leaned in to kiss her.

The night passed into a bright, sparkling morning. A blue, cloudless sky that lit the dewy earth in a twinkling, golden glow. A cool breeze wafted through the home, and Aang was the first to awaken. He decided to tiptoe outside to perform some katas, and as he passed Chiyo’s room, he noticed her peeking out of her doorway.

He smiled and motioned for her to join him. As Niwa woke up, she could hear the Avatar speaking outside. She looked out of her window to see Aang happily instructing some Airbending moves to Chiyo. She watched both of the realize they weren’t alone, and their forming bond was already unbreakable.

As the morning progressed, Zuko awoke as well, and he got dressed and prepared to potentially wake up Azula, but she was already awake, sitting on her bed just waiting.

“Are we leaving?” She asked. Zuko closed the door behind him.

“No, Niwa’s cooking breakfas-”

“I’m not eating.”

“Azula.”

“I’m not spending any time with them. I will leave this room when we leave this prison.”

“It isn’t a prison.”

“I don’t care,” Azula grumbled.

“Chiyo will want to say goodbye,”

“She can come in here and do it.”

Zuko sighed. “Alright. I can’t make you do anything.”

“Exactly.”

Breakfast was cooked and served; Niwa did her best to cater to Aang’s needs as a vegetarian. Chiyo asked reluctantly if she had to let go of meat to be an Airbender, to which Aang fumbled as he looked into her sad gray eyes.

“I mean… if you’re an Airbender already and you’ve been eating meat I don’t see why you should HAVE to give it up. It’s all personal preference!”

Chiyo’s eyes happily lit back up and she eagerly tore into her pig-chicken slice much to Aang’s dismay.

Notably absent from the table was Ozai, along with Azula.

“Where’s Papa?” Chiyo asked Niwa.

“Papa is… he’s watching Katsu while we eat. Katsu’s been… a little fussy and he doesn’t want to… to interrupt breakfast.”

Aang chewed his food slowly, looking at Zuko, who could also tell something was amiss.

“Oh okay,” Chiyo accepted as she chomped into her rice. Niwa looked up at Zuko, signaling that wasn’t exactly the case. As they concluded breakfast, and Niwa insisted everyone leave their dishes for her to clean, she escorted Zuko up to Azula’s with a tray of food for the princess.

“I hope this is alright,” Niwa said. “But… I want to have a talk with you two before you leave.”

Azula listened to the door open, and she bristled as she saw Niwa at the door. Even with a tray full of food, she struggled to trust the woman. Zuko entered behind her, and Niwa placed the tray at Azula’s feet before she knelt down to the floor.

“… There’s something I want to talk to you two about.”

Azula was quick to try and stand, but Zuko urged her to sit back down. Grumbling, she did so, and Niwa looked to the siblings in earnest.

“… Ozai told me everything this morning.”

Zuko looked to his sister. “Everything? As in…”

“As in the case of your mother, Ursa. About… About Azulon. About his death. About what Azulon wanted done to you, Zuko. About your Agni Kai, about your banishment. About you, Azula, and his beliefs that you were superior to Zuko, because Zuko, you reminded Ozai so much of himself. He told me everything.”

Zuko gripped at the fabric over his pants with a trembling hand. Azula frowned and she stood once more.

“If he wanted to say something he should say it TO us!”

“Azula, wait please!” Niwa stood to grab Azula’s hand, but Azula quickly yanked herself from the woman’s grip. “I promise you; this isn’t me trying to pass information along. This is me asking you if all of this is true.”

Zuko blinked. “Wh-why?”

Niwa held herself. “I want there to be honesty. Even if I have to go behind his back to make sure it’s there. If what he’s told me is wrong, then… I won’t keep him here. But if what he’s told me is true…”

“Don’t tell me you’d keep him anyway after everything he’s told you,” Azula sneered. Niwa held herself tighter.

“I would, Azula. I would because he’s not hiding it anymore. He’s not running. He told me this to make sure there were no secrets anymore. He told me all of that this morning. There’s more, too, if you want me to go further in depth. The Phoenix King? Lashing out at Zuko on the Day of Black Sun? Sending you after Zuko multiple times?” She ended the questions looking at Azula.

Zuko nodded. “Those are all correct.”

Azula turned away. Niwa approached her slowly.

“… I know you were both affected by him; terribly. And I know what it must look like to see someone give a chance to a man who didn’t give one to either of you. But… if there’s anything I can promise you in full honesty: He’s not that man anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean a damn thing,” Azula hissed, turning to face Niwa.

“And I understand that as well. But I come here both asking for your truth, and to let you know his own that he entrusted me with. That he’s not running. That… he hates what he did, but he knows you both have every right to not want to see him. Every right to hate him. There are no words for what has been done. But he does see now. And he is sorry.”

Niwa looked to Zuko, her hands folded in a gentle plea. “He’s sorry to both of you. I know that only goes so far coming from me. But… I wanted you both to know he’s stopped hiding. And if you wanted to confront him yourself, he won’t run. If you need to speak to him, he will be there.”

Niwa placed a hand on Azula’s shoulder, catching the princess’ attention as she turned, trying to force her trembling lips to become still.

“And I will be there too,” Niwa said, reaching forward to wipe a tear from Azula’s cheek.

Azula stared; emotional and still seething, but she didn’t retract herself from Niwa’s hand until she finally took a deep breath and returned to her bed, plopping down to grab the bowl of rice.

Niwa looked to Zuko, who nodded to her; and Niwa smiled before turning to leave.

As Aang saddled up Appa, Niwa stepped outside to watch Chiyo play with the bison.

“Mom! Mom!! Can I get a bison?? Please please PLLEEAAASSE?“ She begged. Niwa laughed as Chiyo bounded into her arms.

"We’ll talk to Papa about it. That is… if there are any other bison out there…”

Aang tightened Appa’s saddle. “We’ve seen clues of colonies! There have to be more out there.”

As Aang helped Katara and Zuko toss the packs into the saddle, Azula joined them outside. She passed Niwa, but not before hesitatingly reaching out to touch her shoulder.

“… Good meal,” she said before stepping away. Niwa beamed, finally getting something positive from the princess.

Back at the door of the home, Ozai stepped out. He lingered back as everyone said their goodbyes until Chiyo noticed him.

“Papa! Come say goodbye!”

Niwa turned to see Ozai; he faltered, but didn’t want to fail Chiyo; nor the promises he’d made to Niwa that morning. Azula stood rigid. Zuko was at ease as he watched his father approach.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Ozai began. “Princess Azula. You are always welcome at our home.”

“Thank you,” Zuko said. Ozai looked to Azula, unsure of what to say as she refused to look at him.

Ozai continued. “… Have a safe trip home. Give your mother my regards.”

More silence. Ozai stepped back a bit to signal they were free to go.

Zuko looked down to Chiyo, who seemed to become confused at the cold nature of their interaction.

Anger begets more anger; and Zuko knew where he stood in that cycle. He remembered doing his best to change and how he hoped to be accepted by others. He knew the pain of rejection on both sides.

He stepped forward.

Everyone watched as the Fire Lord reached in-

and embraced Ozai.

It was tight. It was suffocating. Much like everything they’d felt leading up to that moment.

Ozai felt his son’s arms hold him, his fingers digging at his back. He trembled, tears falling from his eyes.

Zuko as well couldn’t hide his own tears. His entire body screamed at him. Fear and anger and the still constant pain of rejection was still so loud in his mind; but he hadn’t feared his father in years; and despite the uncomfortable embrace, Zuko buried his face into his father’s shoulder.

Perhaps this was both the ultimate way to prove how much they both had grown, that Zuko no longer feared Ozai, and that Ozai could now possibly begin to accept his own shortcomings without fear of retribution. Zuko was not like his father… and Ozai didn’t have to be like his anymore. He’d already proven that.

Zuko pulled away from the hug, and the two looked to each other quickly before the Fire Lord turned towards Appa in silence.

Azula gaped at her brother as he tried to compose himself. She looked to her father, but couldn’t bear to look at him much longer. Instead, she walked over to Chiyo; pulling the flame-shaped hairpiece from her topknot.

“Hey… this is for you.”

Chiyo lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah. I want you to have it. You’re part of the Fire Nation Royal Family after all.”

Chiyo giggled, and she leaped forward to hug Azula so tightly. “I’m so glad I have a big sister.”

Azula fought her own tears, and she hugged Chiyo. “Don’t forget to write, okay kid?”

“I’ll write every week!” Chiyo answered. Azula ruffled her hair and she stood, looking to Niwa, who offered a smile to the princess. Azula gave a ghost of a smile back; but as she peered Ozai’s way… she just couldn’t look at him… but she struggled to leave.

“… Write a letter sometime. Maybe I’ll read it.”

Ozai sniffled. “Yeah. I will.”

“Just so you know I’ll probably burn the first few. But if you keep trying.. one of us is bound to read one.”

Ozai chuckled. “Then I guess I’ll just have to write every day.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’m not promising,” Ozai said. Azula finally looked his way as he nodded to her. “I’m going to do it.”

Azula’s expression dared to falter. “I don’t forgive you.”

“I don’t want you to,” Ozai said.

“… Then… I guess that’s something we both have in common now.”

“Hey. It’s a start,” Ozai said, his voice rough as he subdued his emotions.

Azula lingered one more moment before she turned towards Appa and was helped up by Zuko.

Niwa held Ozai as they watched the bison take to the sky. She heard a coughing sob escape from Ozai’s chest as he watched, and Chiyo rushed forward to wave to the team.“

"Byeee!!” She called out. “I hope we have more fun when you visit again!!”

#atla #atla fanfic #Ozai #Azula #Zuko #Aang #Katara #atla oc #Niwa #Chiyo #Katsu #my writing

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